


Broken Brothers and Faded Dreams

by Chelamine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, American Football, And he's not dead this time!, Angst and Tragedy, Beating, Big Brother America, Big Brothers, Big Sisters, Big brother England, Big brother France, Black Markets, Car Chase, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Sweethearts, Childhood Trauma, Crushes, Davie!, Day At The Beach, Depression, Don't know if I'm to that point yet though..., Dreams and Nightmares, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, Family, Family Feels, Fatherly relationships, Feels, Fever, Finally some justice, Fist Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forced Prostitution, Forced Relationship, Forgotten Memories, Friendship, Heartache, Heartbreak, Human Trafficking, I didn't realize they were siblings until it was to late, I hope he can appear more!, I hope no one dies in this..., I included him!, I'll admit that, I'm kinda a sadistic writer, I'm not sorry, I'm so proud of myself!, Illnesses, Kidnapping, Love Confessions, Manipulation, McDonalds is a place for angst, More Feels, Morphine, Needles, Nightmares, No one is dead yet, Noncon Drug Use, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Relationship, Pain, Papa France, Police, Possible Relationships - Freeform, Rape, Repressed Memories, Rescue Missions, Self-Hatred, Shopping, Stockholm Syndrome, Taunting, There's a bunch of feels bombs in here, Tragedy, Underage Prostitution, Unrequited Love, Violence, Wal-Mart, Wal-Mart bathroom, although not kinda, big brother Prussia, daddy england, duh - Freeform, especially in an AU, first attempt at writing Portugal, it's Hetalia though, it's a bit tempting I'll admit, low-blow insults, nonconsenual drug use, now for the rest...., painful memories, police chases, prison justice shouldn't be to far off for one of our criminals, so really anything flies when you think about it, sorry - Freeform, sorry about that, sorta not sorry, that's good right?, unapologetic feels bombs ahead, we're not even halfway through yet though so....
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-15 23:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 38
Words: 99,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3465929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chelamine/pseuds/Chelamine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been nine years since Gilbert last saw his little brother. It's been seven years since Alfred last played hide and seek with his brother. It's been thirteen years since Antonio lost the boy of his dreams. It's been nine years since Katya had a brother to buy flowers for. And it's been to long since these four boys had somewhere safe to stay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The car sped along the highway, bouncing over potholes and speed bumps as it’s occupants drove into the night. Inside, Mattie tried curling into different positions in his seat to sleep but between the jarring of the car, the distracting classic rock played softly over the radio, and the endless jabbering from Gerhalt, their driver, he was beginning to think it just wasn’t gonna happen.  
Behind him, in the back seat of the car lay Ludwig, curled up and fast asleep deep enough to not let any of this bother him. It also probably helped he was wrapped up in all three of the blankets in the car while Mattie was stuck dealing with the soft breeze of the AC washing over him. He also probably had that stuffed dog toy curled up with him while Mattie was forced to try and brave sleep with out his Kumajirou… that probably definitely helped.  
Now, Mattie understood that at sixteen, he was probably to old to sleep with toys. Luciano had made that very clear last week when Mattie had been debating on whether or not to pack the stuffed polar bear away or use it to sleep (although he really shouldn’t be talking, it wasn’t like he tried to hide the stuffed Tomato dog toy he’d held onto for as long as Mattie had known him). But Mattie had owned Kumajirou for a long time, for as long as he cared to remember. He didn’t see how he was supposed to just abandon the little guy after so much had happened, hell, he couldn’t abandon the little guy. It was like a personal betrayal in some ways…  
Ludwig was only fourteen, still to old to sleep with toys, but oddly enough no one thought to give him much trouble for toting that worn out stuffed dog plushie literally everywhere. In fact, the only one who gave him really any flack for it was Gerhalt, who called it rather unmanly and childish. Grandpa encouraged it, and the General didn’t seem to care one way or the other.  
Speaking of which, Mattie turned onto his other side, staring up at Gerhalt who snapped his mobile phone closed and tossed it onto the small table between the driver and passenger seats. Mattie could hear him grumbling something about how idiotic Grandpa was-the man had forced them to drive for nearly a week to the new house and somehow was still so cheery and upbeat about the whole thing even with Luciano, Ivan, and the General as his traveling companions.  
Mattie figured Grandpa, a name they’d been told to call him since they’d met him, was just about the happiest man in the world. He looked rather young to be a grandfather, and his smiles and shiny eyes certainly helped to add to a more child-like personality. Mattie almost never saw Grandpa lose it, whether he be under an insane amount of stress, getting yelled at, or things just weren’t going his way that day, he was still smiling and dancing around like it was Christmas or something. He was like an auburn haired, stubble covered, man-child, and Mattie honestly didn’t mind being around him.  
Gerhalt on the other hand, Mattie could really do without. He was gruff, rude, and needed a shower and a haircut in some of the worst ways. Oily blonde locks that reached his shoulder blades would whip around as he turned to stare at someone menacingly, even if they hadn’t done anything wrong, and he was a master at making people feel small. When someone was being unruly, he was the one sent to straighten them out (Mattie sometimes had nightmares on his punishments, only sometimes though. It used to be worse), he also kept order during business hours, organized clients and transactions, and was ready to tell you what to do whether you already knew or not. Driving with him for a week straight had Mattie wishing they were already at the new house from day one, it had Ludwig sleeping through most of the journey, and it had Gerhalt yammering away on the phone as a means of entertaining himself and ignoring them (Mattie really didn’t have much of a problem with this).  
Then there was the General, the third caretaker in the odd… family (?)… that they’d cobbled together. Mattie really didn’t know much about him, just that he was in some military somewhere and when people really needed to be straightening out and Gerhalt ran out of patience, you sent him in. Mattie personally had never been that badly in trouble, but Lovino and Ivan, well…  
They didn’t like to talk about it.  
The General was quiet, never talking to anyone and never really interacting with anyone. He was supposed to be the scary muscle Grandpa had hanging behind him, reminding clients there was a line to be crossed when working with them and the General was just waiting for it to be crossed. He looked like he’d seen action too, with scars covering a pale body and platinum blonde, nearly white hair poking out in wisps below a large fur hat he liked to wear that looked like it’d seen better days.  
Gerhalt’s booming voice snapped Mattie back to the present.  
“Sorry?” He groaned, leaning up and allowing the passenger seat to rise up to meet his back.  
“I said we’re almost there.” Gerhalt snapped, making a turn off the freeway.  
“Ah.”  
Moving was a normal thing with them. Every few months they packed up and moved somewhere else. Mattie never really knew why, he just knew that he helped when he was needed, he stayed out of the way the rest of the time, and he made damn well sure he was in the car because otherwise…  
They’d moved to a lot of different places over the years. Some places were nice, some places were rather dangerous, and a few were either an interesting combination of both or something straight out of a dream. Mattie’s favorite part of moving would be the arrival, the adventure of somewhere new for he and the other kids to explore before things were packed up again and they were driving somewhere else.  
That was another thing, they almost always drove everywhere. Making their reach of locations a bit limited, but the road trips had gotten rather interesting in the past.  
This time they were moving from a landlocked suburb to a lake house. Mattie figured it was for the summer season, a lot of people would be vacationing at their second homes and that meant a wide client pool for Grandpa, Gerhalt, and the General. Mattie didn’t particularly like that, but you wouldn’t hear any complaining from him, he knew better.  
The town they drove through seemed small but nice, peppered with salons, expensive boutiques and restaurants, and every public service attraction looked how it was supposed to; clean and well running. Mattie didn’t think he saw a lick of graffiti anywhere though he tried to look down as many alleys as the dark night would allow.  
Finally they seemed to be making their way to the heavily wooded area that housed most of the summer lake houses, concealing them from the rest of the world and creating a sort of closed off paradise outsiders couldn’t touch. Mattie had to smirk, thinking how this place would now have literally everything if his caretakers were successful.  
The lake was huge, bigger than anything Mattie had seen in his many years of traveling (and not being locked in a trunk or confined to the wall of the trailer they used to own). Houses framed it, and the few that were already occupied were lit up with yellow and orange lights that reflected off the dark choppy water and adding to the white and silver colors reflected by the stars and the moon.  
They drove around the edge of the lake, Mattie watching hard for signs of fish or sea monsters as Gerhalt wondered aloud how much it probably cost to own one of these places and not have the kind of job he did. Ludwig snored peacefully in the back, unaware he’d probably get kicked awake in a few minutes.  
A tall white house was waiting for them, Grandpa’s car already there unpacked and waiting for it’s companion to join it in the large drive way. Gerhalt pulled up so the cars were sitting neck and neck and shut the car off, hoping out and slamming the door closed as a means of waking Ludwig. When it didn’t work, Mattie leaned back and shook the boy awake while the trunk behind them squeaked open.  
“Huh?”  
“We’re here.” Mattie whispered, hurrying to unbuckle himself and then reaching back to unbuckle his friend when Ludwig wasn’t moving fast enough, “Come on, you can sleep in a real bed tonight!”  
“Oh boy…” Ludwig yawned, gathering up the blanket that was supposed to be his and wrapping it around his shoulders. The brown dog toy was indeed pressed to his chest by his arm, looking very well used. Mattie yanked his blanket out from under Ludwig’s leg and they climbed out of the car just in time for Gerhalt to toss their bags at them. Each boy picked up a green dufflebag, slinging it over their shoulders and waiting for Gerhalt to lead them up the grassy lawn to the front door.  
Before Gerhalt could even knock on the front door, it swung open with Grandpa standing there on the other side looking ecstatic by their arrival. He clobbered Ludwig and Mattie in a tight hug, exclaiming their arrival was just what he needed.  
“Lovino and General are no fun!” He whined, “And Ivan’s been hiding in his room all day!”  
“You barely just got here before us.” Gerhalt pointed out before he was shooed into the house.  
“Come on,” Grandpa said, taking Ludwig and Mattie’s hands, “Let’s go inside, eat some dinner, and get to bed. Unpacking can wait until tomorrow, don’t you think?”  
“Yes.” Ludwig agreed sleepily, stifling a yawn.  
Grandpa chuckled, leading them through the bare but still impressive looking house and towards a kitchen packed with boxes, bags, and just plain clutter. The kitchen table was the only thing set up, and it was covered in a few boxes and the camera bags. Between that, Lovino sat with a book in his hands, looking desperate to concentrate and shooting Mattie and Ludwig dark glares when they sat down on either side of them.  
“No hello to your brothers Lucie?” Grandpa frowned.  
“Hello.” Lovino snapped.  
“Lovi…” Grandpa muttered with a warning tone.  
Lovino sighed, setting down his book and looking Mattie straight in the eye.  
“Welcome home.” He said before picking the book back up and diving in. Grandpa rolled his eyes, disappearing among the stacks of boxes to prepare something to eat. In the living room Mattie watched as Gerhalt and the General poured over a large black notebook. Mattie knew that notebook was something to do with the business side of what they did, containing names, numbers, and payment statements.  
It was a rather valuable notebook.  
Behind them, Mattie watched a pale blonde boy descend the stairs, looking tired but happy to see everyone as he made his way over to the table. Mattie smiled at him, inviting him to sit down.  
Ivan accepted the chair, slumping forward across the table as he did so.  
“I didn’t think you’d ever get here.” He sighed, “Lovino’s been getting on General’s nerves and mine all day.”  
“Shutup.” Lovino snapped from behind his book.  
“He says the meanest things.”  
“Well now you don’t have to listen to just what he says.” Ludwig pointed out sleepily, using his dog as a pillow. Mattie watched his eyes open and close slowly for a few seconds, and then Ludwig was out again.  
“Driving with them was rather boring.” Ivan continued, “Lovino only read and General didn’t talk. Grandpa fell asleep most of the time too.”  
“That’s all Ludwig would do too.” Mattie muttered, chewing on his fingernails. From behind them, there was a ding from a microwave and Grandpa was back.  
“Here we go, dinner is s-oh, is Luddy not eating?”  
Lovino prodded Ludwig’s shoulder once, twice, then turned to Grandpa to shake his head.  
Grandpa frowned, “Gerhalt said he slept most of the trip-I hope he’s not getting sick.” He walked around the table to feel Ludwig’s forehead and his frown deepend. He set the four tv dinners down, tray and all, and started to lift Ludwig into his arms when Lovino stood.  
“I-I’ll do it.” He said, closing his book and trading with Grandpa, lifting the fourteen year old onto his back, “I’m not that hungry anyway. To tired…”  
“Alright,” Grandpa sighed, tucking Lovino’s book between the teenager’s back and Ludwig’s chest, “But make sure you come say goondnight alright?”  
“Will do.” Lovino muttered, trudging out of the kitchen and up the stairs.  
The four of them would share a bedroom, as always, and, as always, it was the smallest one. Four cots were set up in the four corners of the room, dufflebags shoved underneath and the small closet provided to them already containing some of the nicer outfits they sometimes wore. Mattie walked inside to find three of the cots had already been claimed, the window, the corner, and the cot nearest the door already taken. He was stuck with the one nearest the closet, the one with a few more stains than the others, and even though he placed sheets over them he still knew the stains were there and this mattress really grossed him out more than the others… he hated it. He wished Grandpa would buy a new cot, but he never did and the one time Mattie asked him to he got hit in the mouth and locked in the closet for three hours so he really didn’t want to ask him again.  
Ludwig was asleep in the corner, curled up with his dog pressed closed to his chest and the blankets wrapped tightly around his small frame. Lovino had collapsed on the cot nearest the door, a flashlight shining up at his book. He looked up as Mattie and Ivan entered, registered who they were, then returned to his book without a second glance at the other two. Ivan collapsed on the cot by the window and didn’t make another sound.  
Mattie sighed, dumping his dufflebag on the carpet and pulling the zipper open. His bear, Kumajirou, was waiting for him at the top. It was a sight for sore eyes and Mattie hugged the toy bear close before carefully setting it beside him and digging for the sheets he’d need.  
When the bed was made he quickly moved to change into pajamas, wishing he could take a shower. But he hadn’t been given permission yet, and he didn’t dare ask this late at night. Instead he stripped down to his white tank top and gray boxer shorts, snatching Kuma up and pressing him close as together they climbed into the bed and Mattie pulled the covers tight.  
With Lovino’s flashlight as the only light source in the room, Mattie tried to close his eyes and sleep.  
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Gilbert Beilschmidt used his newly sharpened pencil to prod his dying pen across his desk. Beside him, his partner (and also cousin) Vash watched in pure boredom as the two of them waited for their shift to end and the freedom to go home. Today, like the past couple of weeks, had been a slow and uneventful day. Patrol had been boring, desk work had been boring, everything was just boring. Neither would say it, because murphy’s law was something the two cops believed in religiously, but they silently wished something would happen. Anything, it didn’t have to be huge, but something!  
Neither knew if they could handle another day filled with patrolling quiet streets, looking for trouble that wasn’t stirring, and pushing boring paperwork when there was nothing to report.  
Not to mention, Gilbert could use a distraction from… that.  
Seriously, a simple bank robbery could do. He’d take a few idiot kids hoping to get rich quick if it meant he had something to do, something to distract him, something to clear all this awful boredom away. He hated having nothing to do, feeling useless. Sometimes he hoped for crime to rise in their jurisdiction, just so he could feel helpful.  
He hated being useless.  
“Gil!” There was a loud thunk and Gilbert looked up to see Roderich with his fist against the corner of the desk, looking annoyed.  
“Yes?” Gilbert frowned.  
“Have you finished your paperwork?” The commissioner said rather evenly.  
“Just about. Why?”  
“If you’re not finished, why are you just sitting here?”  
Gilbert groaned, “I have another hour until I’m off duty. Don’t you think taking a break before filling out two more reports is gonna hurt anything?”  
Roderich sighed, “I guess not.”  
“Thank you. Is that all you needed?”  
“Well, no…” Roderich sighed, an uncomfortable look crossing his face and Gilbert knew what was coming and quickly began thinking up ways to put a stop to the impending conversation.  
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do Friday?” Roderich asked and Gilbert’s entire body deflated a fraction.  
“Do we really need to talk about this now?” Gilbert asked.  
“I just wanted to know, have you thought about it?”  
“What’s there to think about?”  
“Well, are you going with Eliza and I or are you going to get piss-blind drunk again before making your way there by bus?”  
“How I choose to spend my day off is my business Roddy.” Gilbert snapped.  
Roderich sighed, “Eliza just wanted me to tell you that she’s making dinner and you’re invited to spend the night.”  
“Is there going to be a cake too?” Gilbert hissed.  
“If you want-“  
“It’s not about what I want Roddy.” Gilbert snarled, “It’s a damn birthday, act like it.”  
“I-I know. I just wasn’t sure how you wanted to celebrate it…” Normally Roderich Edelstein, Police Commisioner and Gilbert’s boss, wouldn’t put up with such rudeness from an underling; but considering the circumstances, he assumed he could allow a little passion to be thrown into the conversation. It wasn’t like he had any right to tell Gilbert not to feel.  
“Well how I want to celebrate it is with a kid’s birthday party surrounded by his friends from school and maybe church-if I was still going that is.” Gilbert hissed snidely, “We’d have a chocolate three-layer cake covered in as much sugary crap as he wanted and there’d be a mountain of presents waiting for him to be rip open.”  
Roderich was quiet, waiting for Gilbert to finish. Around them, several cops watched feeling uncomfortable. Everyone knew the story, knew what day was coming, and knew not to breathe a word about it in the presence of Gilbert or his extended family.  
“Maybe I’d be getting him a new puppy this year-he loved dogs I think.” Gilbert continued, “And yeah, you and Lizzy could come over, hell Vash and Erika could too. We’d all be one big happy family, all together and nothing could possibly ruin his day.”  
Gilbert sighed, heat in his breath and voice as the anger he’d been trying to choke down since last Friday made an unwanted appearance.  
Roderich swallowed, slowly reaching out to pluck the unfinished reports from Gilbert’s desk and looked them over.  
“These look fine,” He said quietly, “You can go.”  
“Thank you.” Gilbert snapped, shooting up from his desk and storming out the door towards the locker room. One hot shower later would do nothing to ease his anger and frustration, but the feeling of freedom as he made his way to his car would certainly make him feel a bit more powerful than he normally felt around this time of year.  
As he drove towards the creaky, rundown apartment he owned, he tried not to think about what kind of costume he’d wanted to have seen a certain someone dressed up in.  
Hell, the kid would have been fourteen this year. Maybe he’d think he was to old for dressing up? Maybe this year Gilbert would have sat in the apartment with him and they’d have watched scary movies all night-assuming Gilbert didn’t get called into work that night meaning the kid would end up watching the movies by himself… alone… in the dark… with no one around him.  
A potential target.  
Gilbert shook himself, speeding a bit of the way home.  
He couldn’t think like that, he couldn’t afford to let himself go down that path. He’d nearly done it once, and it almost cost him everything.  
He had to have something for the kid to come back to. Otherwise, what would be the point? He wanted there to be a home waiting for the kid, not some drunk and washed up loser with a prison no better than the one he must be enduring now-  
Stop. Thinking.  
Gilbert forced his mind to blank as he pulled into his parking space just outside of his apartment. It was dark, a few neighboring apartment’s windows were busted, but it was home. Gilbert grinned up at his door, opening the door to the back seat to retrieve his things, knowing this place was his. He’d carved a place for himself here and that was what mattered.  
He had everything ready for him.  
Gilbert opened the front door and listened as his dogs began running to greet him, barking and wagging their tongues to say hello. He grinned rubbing their heads one by one before stepping over them to prepare dinner. Dog food for his three roommates, tv dinner lasagna for him.  
As Gilbert flipped on the tube and sat back with a cardboard box containing his half-thawed Italian cuisine, he silently wondered to himself if maybe he should accept Roderich’s offer. He understood Roddy was just trying to help, trying to be there for him like he always was, but it was just…  
It was his brother, not Roddys.  
It was Gilbert’s mistake, not Roddys.  
Gilbert didn’t know if he deserved to let himself feel anything but personal anguish and regret on October third. After all, if it weren’t for him, the kid would probably still be here. If it weren’t for Gilbert’s blind mistakes, maybe the kid would have turned out alright despite how crappy their lives had been at that point.  
Gilbert swallowed, trying not to think about how much he wanted to spend such a dark day in the presence of family and friends, to be reassured he wasn’t a horrible person, but somehow he found it hard to allow himself that when the kid… when he was…  
Gilbert shut his eyes and counted to ten before taking a bite of dinner and forcing himself to just watch the TV.


	2. Chapter 2

Waking up to a rough hand shaking your arm was a normal thing. Being snapped at by Gerhalt as he did so was also a normal thing.  
When Lovino was forced awake that morning he gave a single groan before a slap to the cheek completely woke him up. He blinked in surprise once, twice, then sat up as Gerhalt moved to shake Mattie awake.  
Lovino huffed. He’d always hated Gerhalt, he’d always hated all three of them. He hated everything about this place, everyone too.  
Well… maybe not everyone.  
He watched tiredly as first Mattie, then Ivan, and finally Ludwig were woken up. They all sat up and watched Gerhalt storm out the door before descending into their duffel bags to find something to wear. Lovino had to push back three or four books to get to his shirts, and he carefully stacked the books under his cot against the wall before turning back to the bag for pants. The Tomato plushie he claimed to no longer need was tucked away with his socks, and he carefully slipped the thing under his pillow before getting up to use the bathroom.  
Gerhalt was standing by the door in the hallway, and he escorted Lovino to the bathroom and then inside.  
“You will take a shower, get dressed, then report to the kitchen for breakfast.” He instructed, leaning back against the wall as Lovino listened. The bathroom was large, a shower and bathtub along one wall and two sinks fitting against another. There was a closet behind Gerhalt and he turned to retrieve a towel for Lovino as he climbed in the shower, drawing the curtain before undressing.  
He tried not to think about Gerhalt being on the other side of the curtain as he showered.  
When Lovino was done grooming himself, he was evicted swiftly from the bathroom and Ivan hurried to take his place. Mattie and Ludwig were standing against the wall, and Lovino sleepily grunted a good morning to them like Grandpa had taught them.  
“No sense in being rude Lovi!”  
Downstairs was still a cluttered mess of boxes and bags, but it looked like a significant chunk had disappeared overnight. There were less boxes covering the kitchen table, where four plates of bacon and eggs sat waiting. Beside them, Grandpa and the General sat pouring over a to-do list, with Grandpa pointing to items with a red pen and muttering in a low voice.  
“Yes, I think if we put a few mattresses down in the basement we should have enough for… oh… twenty?”  
“Are we going to need twenty?” Lovino heard the General mutter.  
“Probably not. But you never know, perhaps with the bigger house we’re expected to make a bigger haul.”  
Lovino swallowed, sitting down quietly and twisting his fingers together under the table. He wished he’d been allowed a book, but it didn’t seem like Grandpa would find such a thing appropriate at the breakfast table.  
“They’ll expect the first payment in a month,” the General continued, pointing to another spot on the page, “Perhaps we should set up the Room now? We could be ready to start by tomorrow.”  
Grandpa sighed, “But if we start tomorrow we can’t set up the rest of the house; make everything look pretty…”  
“I’m more concerned with money than things looking pretty.”  
“But that’s how you rake in more money!”  
There was a thunking of footsteps and Ivan was making his way over to join them. Grandpa smiled at him, wishing him a good morning while the General focused intensely on their list and Lovino stared down at his plate.  
“Where are your brothers?” Grandpa asked Ivan.  
“Mattie’s showering, Ludwig’s waiting his turn.” Ivan said  
“Well then, I guess it’d be alright if you started eating. We have a lot to do today.”  
Ivan nodded, scooping up a fork to begin eating and after a moment of queasy hesitation, Lovino did too.  
Lovino hated setting things up whenever they moved somewhere new. He hated setting up the Room most of all. There were to many memories in it, there were to many things he wanted to block out and forget but couldn’t. It was all burned into his memory, and should he happen to forget a moment of it they were all burned onto dvd’s too.  
When breakfast was over for Lovino, Grandpa dragged him from the kitchen and to the living room, where he ripped open the tape on a box and began pulling out items for Lovino to carry.  
“These are going to go in the Room, that’s the most important thing to set up today.” Grandpa said, unloading a set of heavy curtains into Lovino’s arms. Lovino swallowed, nodding quietly, and when Grandpa had pulled out a few wall decorations they made their way to the only bedroom on the first floor.  
It was what once was the master bedroom of the house. The four poster bed had already been set up, laying open and bare as the two of them dumped their things onto the mattress. Lovino, as he had many times before, began unfolding the gold curtains and extracting the thin sheer ones folded up inside them. Then he started pulling them onto the rods, securing their ties around the posts of the bed while trying not to think about what happened when these curtains closed.  
Behind him, Grandpa finished banging a nail into the wall. Carefully, he hung a large mirror up, stepping back to admire his reflection before grinning wide and turning to Lovino. With careful, quiet steps he approached the eighteen year old before tackling him and pinning him to the mattress.  
Lovino yelped in surprise, squirming to get away as Grandpa continued to hold him down.  
“Nice job on the curtains,” Grandpa complimented, reaching out the finger the material, “Shall we close them?”  
“N-no, no thank you!” Lovino squeaked, going still as Grandpa’s legs repositioned themselves so all his body weight was pressing into the boy.  
“Are you sure?” Grandpa sighed, “I feel like I’ve been neglecting you.”  
“N-not at all!”  
“Well, if you’re sure.” Grandpa sighed, making like he was going to get up before flopping back down onto Lovino and pressing a chaste kiss to his temple, “Just remember Lovino, you’re my special one.”  
“I… will.”  
“And that means we look after each other.” Grandpa continued, reaching up to run his fingers through Lovino’s hair, “You don’t neglect me, and I don’t neglect you.”  
“A… alright…. Alright.” Lovino breathed. He didn’t want to do this now, he never wanted to do it ever.  
“And Lovi?”  
“Y-yes?”  
“I feel neglected.”  
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When Alfred’s alarm clock sounded that morning his first thought was to toss the damn thing at the wall. There was honestly no sound more annoying than the sound of an alarm, and his alarm especially was a sound he’d come to loathe.  
As he decided to instead just punch the stupid thing off and flopped back to his warm covers, he could hear his dad downstairs shuffling around, preparing for the day. He could hear a groan from across the hall signaling his father was struggling to get up just as much as he was. Alfred curled deeper inside the warm comforter, wondering how much longer until one of them stormed into his bedroom to remind him he’d be late for school. Five minutes? Ten minutes? Surely no more than twenty, that would mean they just didn’t care.  
And Arthur and Francis couldn’t help but care.  
Alfred was their world. He was their everything. He was that treasure locked away and guarded like the Holy Grail.  
Deep down, some small, mature part of him could understand why. But a larger, more rebellious side of him couldn’t stand it. It was annoying having your every move watched by a pair of overly protective parents who seriously needed to take a chill pill. He could handle himself, he could protect himself. There was nothing in the world that could take him away at this point.  
Knock on wood.  
Alfred could hear the door to his parent’s room open and that was his signal that the time for personal reflection was over. Time to get up and ready for school, lest he somehow blemish that stunning attendance record.  
When his dad peeked in on him, Alfred spotted that grin knowing he’d made at least one of them happy. Now it was just a matter of getting downstairs in time to enjoy his Father’s breakfast and then off to school.  
Ugh… school.  
Hanging out with his friends was fun, gym could be fun, and even history class wasn’t that bad; but the rest could just go die under a bridge. Alfred hated being stuck in those musty old rooms day after day while outside the promise of adventure was calling. He hated listening to his English teacher drone on and on about things he could care less about, or how his math teacher couldn’t be bothered to teach the formulas right and still find it in his power to yell at how stupid and lazy his students were (okay, maybe not in those exact words, but the intent was definitely there).  
Why couldn’t it be Saturday already? Or at least three o’clock Friday? Hell, he’d even take seventh period Friday over Monday morning.  
Descending the stairs, Alfred could smell pancakes cooking and he frowned, thinking it was a bit strange since they almost never had pancakes. Usually it was waffles, scones if it was his dad’s birthday, maybe eggs or toast, but never pancakes.  
He carefully watched his father’s face as he entered the kitchen, looking for signs of pain or resentment but found only that infuriating cheeriness that comes with being a morning person.  
“Good morning Alfred,” His father smiled, setting a plate of food before him, “I hope you slept well.”  
“When does he not?” His dad snorted over his coffee, reading over his paper.  
His father spared his dad a dry look before turning back to Alfred, “Now hurry and eat, the both of you. Otherwise you’re going to be late.”  
“How is dad going to be late?” Both Alfred’s parents worked from home, his dad was a writer while his father was a freelance photographer. Yeah, his father had some office somewhere he shared with a few other photographers or something, but neither of them were ever late to anything in the mornings.  
“Your father has a meeting with his editor this morning,” his father grinned, “I think it’s good news, he sounded so happy on the phone.”  
Oh yeah, there was that, Alfred realized, taking a bite of pancake.  
“Or he was just masking the happiness since it wasn’t me who answered the phone.” His dad said, closing the paper and sipping from his mug.  
“Coward,” His father sniffed, “Waking me up to answer your phone call.”  
“You love me.”  
“I tolerate you.”  
Alfred smirked, watching the breakfast time show. His parents were always arguing, whether it be simple jibes or full-up death matches. They couldn’t help but poke at one another, and Alfred guessed it was okay so long as they went to bed happy every night. There had been one or two arguments bad enough he’d been seriously worried, but really he found their opposition of each other to be more endearing than anything else.  
His father looked up at the wall clock hanging above the pantry and sighed, picking up the morning paper from it’s place beside his dad’s arm and folded it under his own.  
“If you don’t go now Alfred will be late,” He tugged the half-eaten plate of pancakes from under his dad, “I’ll reheat these when you get back alright?”  
His dad sighed, glancing at his wrist watch and muttering, “Fine,” before the two of them were hurrying out the door and towards his dad’s car. The school sat twenty minutes away and Alfred had twenty five before the first bell rang.  
And there was traffic.  
His dad sighed as they were stopped at a light for the third time, leaning back in his seat and rubbing his eyes as if to try and banish the last dregs of sleep from them.  
“We’re probably going to have to ban your father from making breakfast on weekdays, aren’t we?”  
“Unfortunantly.” Alfred smirked, looking out to watch fellow students as they walked towards the school, well, more like ran. They were still sitting about three blocks away with ten minutes to go.  
“He just woke up this morning in such a good mood, I didn’t have the heart to tell him we probably weren’t going to have time to eat.” His dad continued, “It’s been awhile since I saw him that happy and no liquor was involved.”  
Alfred snorted, “Everything tasted really good too. I wasn’t sure if he remembered how to make pancakes.”  
“Oh I don’t think he can forget.” His dad sighed, driving forward as the light shone green, “I think he has the recipe burned into his memory.”  
Alfred nodded, the smile weaken by a fraction. He glanced outside again and did a double take, grinning wider.  
“You can drop me here dad.” He said, unbuckling his seat belt.  
“What? Why?”  
Alfred pointed out the window, “Toris.”  
His dad frowned, turning to look where his son was pointing and sighed, “Alright then, abandon your father half-way through the trip I guess.”  
“Great,” Alfred grinned, leaning forward to peck his dad’s cheek, “Love you, see you tonight!”  
“See you!” His dad called as Alfred sprinted across the street and tackled an unsuspecting Toris from behind.  
“Nice to see you this fine morning.” Toris, a gangly brunette about Alfred’s age grinned when Alfred was finished manhandling him.  
“You know what? It has been a rather splendid morning. I woke up to my father making pancakes, my dad drove me to school-or at least most of the way, and now I get to walk through the doors alongside my best friend.”  
“Five minutes late.” Toris added as the first bell rang. You could hear it from a street away, which is currently the only thing that stood between the boys and the building.  
“Oh well,” Alfred shrugged, “I’m not gonna let it get me down. Besides, it’s first period with Mr. Jackson, who cares?”  
“Mr. Jackson is pretty laid back.”  
“I bet he’s not even in class yet.” Alfred said, making Toris snicker.  
“We’d better hope so.”  
“Let’s go,” Alfred sighed and together the boys broke into a jog.  
The rest of the day would be spent like any other day, with notes getting tossed here and there to and from Alfred, a sloppy looking lunch of questionable taste, and a variety of friends in every room Alfred liked to kick back and joke around with. Sure a few teachers grew a bit tired of their antics, but so long as no one got sent to the office Alfred didn’t see any harm done.  
The one thing to break the cycle of boring school days came around sixth period, while Alfred was busy trying to copy down the English notes among his bored scribbles and fantastic ink splotch paintings in his book, the door opened. On the other side stood the vice-principal and an unfamiliar Japanese boy.  
“Class,” The vice-principal said, catching everyone’s attention as he pushed the boy further into the room, “This is Kiku Honda. He’s transferring into your class today.”  
The class watched silently, as if they were waiting for the boy to do a trick.  
“Yes, well,” The vice-principal coughed, “Please be hospitable to him. Show him everything that it means to be Eagles!” He punched a fist into the air as he said the name of the school mascot before turning with a nod to Alfred’s teacher and then a hasty exit; abandoning the new kid right there in front of everyone.  
“Well, welcome to class Kiku,” Alfred heard his teacher say as cheerily as she could be bothered this late in the day with the promise of freedom hanging so close.  
“H… hello.” Alfred watched Kiku mutter nervously.  
Alfred grinned, he always liked to see what became of the new meat.


	3. Chapter 3

Every once in a while Grandpa would emerge from the Room and pick up a box to carry inside, whistling as he did so. A few times he came out not wearing a shirt and the other time he emerged without his pants on, only boxer shorts. Everyone pretended not to notice when a cry was heard inside, although Gerhalt did elbow the General with a smirk once, earning himself an eye roll and a shove to the side.  
When a loud noise sounded from the Room Ludwig silently set his sandwich down and blanched. Suddenly he wasn’t so hungry anymore.  
Actually, he hadn’t been very hungry to begin with. This morning there’d been a dull ache at the back of his throat, and even now there was an unsettling shift in his stomach like his organs were trying to find a more comfortable position in his body. He bent forward as a cough tore through him for the second time that morning.  
Another yelp from the Room made him jump uncomfortably before Mattie was cleaning up the table from lunch, Lovino’s sitting untouched, and they, along with Ivan, were back in the living room unpacking.  
Gerhalt and the General had been lugging boxes labeled as their to their rooms upstairs for most of the morning, one standing to watch while the other took a few minutes to try and movie into their room and then switching when a box had been emptied. The rest either ended up in the office, the kitchen, or in the closet of the boy’s room as storage for a later time. Some things, like furniture, were pushed to the middle of the living room so that Grandpa’s “artist eye” could figure out where they’d fit best in the house.  
Ludwig pressed his elbow to his mouth and gave another cough before Mattie could hand him a box labeled “Papers”, making the boys frown.  
“Are you getting sick?” Mattie asked, voice soft as his gaze flickered to the General, who was watching from the banister upstairs.  
“No…” Ludwig croaked.  
“Are you sure?” Ivan asked, looking worried.  
“I’m sure.” Ludwig muttered, looking down.  
It was bad to get sick. Being sick meant you couldn’t work. And if it went on for too long… well… what was the point of you? Lovino had gotten the flu once, and it had lasted so long he’d lost three appointments and Gerhalt had been ready to kick him out (or something, Ludwig wasn’t sure what happened when they decided they didn’t want you around anymore). It was probably only because Grandpa liked Lovino that nothing had changed, but it had certainly come close.  
Ludwig was terrified of getting sick. He’d suffered through the sniffles, sweats, coughs, and aches just to make sure he wasn’t thrown away. He didn’t want to know what it meant to be kicked out, because he doubted that meant being dropped off at the nearest bus station.  
The door to the Room opened without warning and Grandpa emerged, smiling and cheery. His eyes settled on the boys, his grin growing wider, and then he was walking towards them with his arms outstretched.  
“Hello boys, what are you up to?”  
“Unpacking.” Ivan said as Mattie tried not to flinch when his shoulder was touched by Grandpa.  
“That’s lovely, I can see you’ve made a lot of progress.”  
“We left some stuff for you to decorate in the middle of the living room.” Mattie said, pointing to the growing pile of paintings, statuettes, mirrors, and curtains.  
“Lovely!” Grandpa exclaimed, bending down to squeeze Mattie’s frame, “You boys are so useful. Thank you, really, I couldn’t be more grateful.”  
Ivan smiled at the compliment, while Mattie bit his lip, looking at his feet and Ludwig bobbed up and down on his heels.  
“Well, I think the Room is pretty much finished,” Grandpa said, rubbing his hands together, “All that’s left now is the rest of the house.” He chuckled, squeezing Mattie’s shoulder and moving towards the pile, picking one thing up to inspect before setting it down to pick up another.  
“Where’s Lovino?” Ludwig asked after a moment.  
“Ah, resting Luddy.” Grandpa sighed, smiling back at them, “He’s been helping as hard as you three.”  
“Is he okay?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Ludwig realized it was a stupid question. Of course Lovino would be okay, he was with Grandpa.  
Grandpa chuckled, setting down a framed picture, “Of course, just a little tired. He’ll be back out here in no time, helping us finish the house.” He looked around, giving all three of the boys before him wide smiles before turning to Gerhalt, who was watching from upstairs, “I think our boys deserve a treat, don’t you?”  
“If you want.” Gerhalt shrugged as the General emerged from his room, “It’s almost dinnertime anyway.”  
“How about pizza?” Grandpa grinned, making the three boys grin as well.  
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The smell of manure rising from a freshly opened bag was not a pleasant stench. Katya Braginsky wrinkled her nose in disgust before tugging her gloves up further on her arms and digging her trowel in. As quick as she could without making a mess of herself, she spread the mulch around the small patch of plants before quickly zipping the bag closed again and discarding of her gardening tools. She pulled her coat around herself tighter and made for the garage as fast as the heavy bag would allow, depositing it in the corner and heading inside where it was warm.  
And loud.  
Katya was nearly knocked over as Peter and Wendy Micnat blew past her in a game of chase. Behind them, their mother hurried after holding a pair of wooly mittens for each of them to wear.  
“Honestly!” She cried, stopping to catch her breath beside Katya, “I think they want to give me an ulcer…”  
“What’s the trouble?” Katya asked, making her way through the kitchen to wash her hands off.  
“Well, I was hoping that they would go walking with me but it seems they have other ideas….” Mrs. Micnat sighed, “Maybe it’s just as well, they’ll probably run off the moment I let them outside anyway.”  
Katya smiled, patting her hands clean on the towel near the sink, “That’s to bad, I bet they’d love to be outside. It’s so nice out today.”  
“My thoughts exactly,” Mrs. Micnat sighed as her children made another lap through the kitchen, “Peter! Wendy!”  
The two stopped like trained dogs, giving their mother a questioning look before wrinkling their noses in disgust at the mittens she offered out to them.  
“Those are way to itchy!” Peter whined.  
“I hate wearing those!” Wendy groaned.  
“You’re grandmother worked hard on these, the least you can do is put them to good use.” Mrs. Micnat sniffed.  
“You said all we had to do was wear them for the Christmas card picture and then we could throw them in the back of the closet.” Wendy argued, pouting.  
“Well I can’t find any of your other gloves, so these are what you have to work with for now.” Mrs. Micnat said.  
“Then I wont wear anything.” Peter crossed his arms, “It’s not like I’ll be doing anything to get them dirty anyway-in fact, if I did get my hands dirty, wouldn’t it be bad for those things? Grandma might get mad.”  
“She won’t get mad if she knows you’re putting them to good use, now come here!” As Mrs. Micnat’s voice rose, her children lost their rebellious attitude and begrudgingly approached. With a sigh of gratefulness the woman tugged the itch wool mittens over each of their hands with a nod of satisfaction before turning to Katya.  
“If you’ve finished all the chores you can go home for the day Katya.”  
“Thank you, ma’am.” Katya smiled, turning to wink at the children, “Don’t give your mother to much of a hard time, alright?”  
Peter’s answer was a mischievously wicked grin while Wendy put her hands behind her back and rocked on her heels.  
“When do I ever give anyone a hard time?” She asked sweetly, and when Katya spotted her hands reappear she noticed the mittens were missing. Mrs. Micnat was to busy straightening Peter’s coat and wouldn’t have noticed had Katya not given a small, girlish giggle.  
“Wendy, I better see those mittens on your hands or else.”  
Waving goodbye to the Micnat household, Katya dug her keys from her bag and sighed as she climbed into her car. It was a rusty, beat up old thing but it had made a long journey with her, too long a journey in fact.  
As she drove down the street, admiring each of the nice lawns of the obscenely expensive houses in the neighborhood, she entertained the idea of living in a place like this. A large house, with a big backyard and a nice front lawn; she’d have a two-car garage, and both she and her sister could share it with a pair of nice cars bought new. She’d have a large room to herself, complete with a bathroom and walk-in closet, and Natalya could hole up in her own on the other side of the house, allowing her to play her metal music as loud as she wanted.  
Those fantasies popped out of existence rather quickly when she pulled into the run-down apartment complex she called home. Without much thought to it, she parked, twisted the ignition off, and plucked her bag from the passenger seat. Before she’d even made it halfway up the stairs she could hear loud music pumping from her apartment, and she cringed as the old woman living across from her paused to give her a dirty look before retreating into her own apartment with her mail. Katya groaned, expecting another complaint about noise to be taped to her door in the morning.  
Inside, Katya saw that Natalya had been busy since getting home from school. Her bags and coat lay in a pile by the closet, her shoes among the mess of shoes (which they both equally contributed to) by the window. The two-bedroom apartment was a mere shoebox compared to Katya’s employer, and it felt cramped enough to be an actual shoebox. Natalya’s door was closed but Katya could still make out every single syllable of the music, and when she twisted the door handle as hard as possible, she was hit with an even bigger wave of sound.  
“Turn that off!” She shouted to her sister, who predictably missed what she said. Natalya sat on her bed, scribbling away in a notebook. Katya counted five before storming forward, slamming her finger into the “off” button and causing her sister to snarl up at her.  
“HEY!”  
“I told you time and time again, it’s too loud!” Katya cried, “We’ve gotten two complaints already, are you ready to get evicted?”  
Natalya huffed, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.  
“You can play it,” Katya sighed, rubbing her temples, “Just at a decent level.”  
“But I can’t hear it.”  
“Then we need to get your ears checked.” Katya said, closing her sister’s bedroom door and heading for the kitchen. There probably wasn’t much to work with in there, but dinner had to happen somehow.  
Honestly, Katya didn’t understand. Natalya had seemed so docile and sweet when she younger. She’d also been a bit clingy, but what child wasn’t?  
Katya, the oldest, had been on her own. Mother and father out of the picture shortly after Katya hit eigth grade, she’d turned to keeping her sister out of trouble. It hadn’t been easy, although when was it? In and out of foster homes at first, Katya had drawn the line after the third rejection and took her family to the streets, in and out of empty houses and sleeping in parks, they worked with what they had. Katya worked with what she had. She did odd jobs where she could, stole as little as needed to make it to tomorrow, and prayed day in and day out things would look up.  
And they did, with Mrs. Micnat.  
Sweet, cheery Mrs. Micnat, who had no idea she’d hired street trash to clean her house and watch her kids when she had to step away. Katya was forever grateful to the woman, who treated Katya better than she’d ever expected to be treated in the service industry; and her kids were so cute, when they weren’t living through one of their more bratty moments. Katya loved kids, she supposed she always had. It had helped in raising her siblings-  
Sibling.  
Katya didn’t get to take care of her brother.  
One of the worst parts of the system was that it could be very cruel. Especially when you tried so hard to work against it. Within a year of landing themselves under the care of the state, Katya had blinked and her little brother vanished before her eyes. One minute he was laying alongside his sisters, shivering from the cold under a thin and scratchy blanket, the next she was being told he’d been taken into a home for boys.  
And then told he’d been placed with a family.  
Natalya had cried for weeks, Katya wanting to join her but staying strong; one of them had to be.  
Katya felt something wet touch her cheek and pressed her fingers to it, realizing she’d begun crying. Shaking herself, she wondered why her head had wandered in that dark direction.  
She had dinner to prepare, no time to sit around thinking about painful things.


	4. Chapter 4

The restaurant they found to eat at smelled of grease and old pepperoni. The seats were a bit torn, a bit dirty, and the tables could use a good rub down. When the food was served by an awkward, zitty teenager it was about eighty-five percent actual food and fifteen percent grease. Ivan used several napkins to dab the grease away, finding what was left to taste no better than cardboard.  
But he enjoyed every minute of the excursion.  
Around him, Grandpa smiled and laughed as Ludwig told a sub-par funny joke. Lovino managed a weak smile as Mattie got up to refill both their soda cups, and even the General and Gerhalt managed to look like they were having a good time. Ivan smiled, surrounded by amiable atmosphere and people he’d known nearly his whole life; his friends and caretakers.  
As the night progressed, he sat silently and enjoyed the events around him, laughing when Grandpa teased Lovino until he blushed tomato-red, nodding when Gerhalt asked if the boys were ready to work tomorrow, and leaned back as the evening began to wind down. Grandpa excused himself to the bathroom, seeming to take all the fun with him as he left. The table descended into a lapse of silence, with Gerhalt more interested with the contents of his cup and the General taking to searching something on his phone. The boys all took to focusing on their pizza, eating quietly as a frown crossed the General’s face.  
Eventually, Ludwig broke the silence with a quiet, “Whoops,” as his hand knocked over his cup, spilling orange soda across the table.  
“Dammit kid!” Gerhalt snapped, slamming his own drink down. Ludwig shrunk back in his seat, going pale as Mattie jumped to start mopping the mess up.  
“Don’t just stand there, help him!” Gerhalt snapped when Ludwig didn’t move. Ludwig jumped at the shout, taking half the napkins Mattie held and pressing them to the soda-covered table top while Lovino and Ivan watched, glancing between Gerhalt and a terrified Ludwig.  
When it seemed everything had finally been cleaned, Ludwig got up from the table, gathering the napkins in his shaking hands. Gerhalt glowered at him, a sneer curling his lip back to expose teeth.  
“Where do you think you’re going?”  
“To…” Helplessly, Ludwig pointed to the trash can only to have his wrist yanked forward so he was pulled across the table.  
“Did you ask permission?” Gerhalt growled, inches from Ludwig’s face. Ludwig shook his head, shrinking back.  
“Gerhalt, don’t make a scene.” General sighed, throwing a casual look around the almost abandoned dining room. The few other patrons dining alongside them either hadn’t noticed or were pretending they hadn’t.  
With a disgusted huff, Gerhalt threw Ludwig’s arm back, the force enough to throw him back a few steps. Ludwig stood there, unsure of what to do next when Gerhalt’s next shout to take care of the mess caused him to jump like a startled rabbit and run to throw the napkins in the trash.  
“Stupid kid…” Gerhalt muttered, collapsing in his seat. The General smirked next to him, reaching out to squeeze Mattie’s shoulder.  
“Kid’s just need a few prods in the right direction.” He muttered, reaching up to thread his fingers through Mattie’s hair before turning to look at Ivan with a grin, “Ludwig’s young, he just needs a few more prods.”  
“He’ll be getting more than that.” Gerhalt whispered, gulping the last of his soda.  
Ivan shuddered, remembering the few “prods” he’d had. The General wasn’t fun when you made him mad, and he was even less mad when you couldn’t do anything right. Ivan hadn’t been able to move without wincing when the General was done with him.  
Ivan frowned, realizing Ludwig had yet to return. Turning he could see Grandpa standing with him by the trash can, a hand to his shoulder as they talked to a strange man.  
“Seems Grandpa’s getting clients ready.” Gerhalt muttered, watching the exchange with interest.  
“Isn’t that the guy with the large family in the corner?” Lovino frowned, and after a moment of thought Ivan realized he was right. The man had graying hair, and the lines and wrinkles suggesting he was a lot older than even Grandpa. His beer gut was on display in the hideous yellow shirt he wore, and as he reached out to ruffle Ludwig’s hair he also tugged his pants up by the belt loops like he was having trouble keeping them on. Ivan looked back to the table he’d come from, seeing it contained a large family with lots of kids about Ludwig’s age or younger. The wife, Ivan assumed, was sitting amongst them alone, entirely focused on the kid nearest to her with only a sparing glance thrown towards her husband.  
After a few more minutes of talking, Grandpa, Ludwig, and the man parted ways, with Grandpa squeezing Ludwig close to his side with a wide grin on his face.  
“What’s all the fuss around here?” Grandpa laughed, sitting down and pulling Ludwig into his lap, “I leave the table for five minutes and it’s complete anarchy I hear.”  
“Who was that guy?” Lovino asked, wincing as he adjusted his sitting position.  
“Oh, no one,” Grandpa said, “Perhaps a potential friend.”  
“Was he interested in Ludwig?” Gerhalt asked, throwing the kid a bemused look.  
“He did say Luddy had the nicest blue eyes.” Grandpa said, resting his head on Ludwig’s shoulder as he stared up at his face. Ivan watched Ludwig swallow, how he worked to remain as still as possible on Grandpa’s lap, “He says he might drop by the house tomorrow-did you know there’s a neighborhood barbecue next week?”  
“Why does that matter?” Gerhalt asked flatly.  
“Well, seems like a good chance to get out and meet people-make friends.” Grandpa grinned, “The man we just talked to? He’s here with his sister’s family tonight, visiting their lakehouse with his own friends, and they all say they’ve been looking for something more entertaining these days.”  
“Sounds like a very profitable friend you made.” The General commented.  
“We’ll see.” Grandpa said, throwing a mischievous wink to Ivan.  
When the boys went to bed that night, things were still as the lights were turned off and Grandpa wished them sweet dreams. Then Lovino got up and walked in pained, stilted steps to Ludwig’s cot where he collapsed. Ivan listened as he heard soft muttering between the two, held his breath to catch a snippet of what they were saying. He thought he already knew, he assumed it was the same thing Lovino had told him whenever something bad happened. He wanted to hear those words again, wanted to take comfort in something that wasn’t going to shout at you one minute and then let something else let men leer at you the next.  
Ivan hated people who stared at him, and he hated being touched. Whenever Lovino would talk to him, he’d sit on the floor as he whispered in the darkness.  
Lovino was the oldest, so he always knew what to say.  
Ivan wondered, being the second oldest, should he know what to do by now too?  
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“Alright, mi amigo, we’re here!” Antonio sang as he pulled up in front of the highschool. Beside him, Feliciano Vargas gave a loud groan, curling into the lowered passenger seat and hiding his face in the pleather.  
“Come on,” Antonio said, shaking Feliciano’s shoulder, “It won’t be so bad, and hey maybe you’ll actually have a good time.”  
“But I hate these things!” Feliciano whined, “School concerts are nothing like the professionals! It grates on my ears!”  
“You promised Emma you’d be here.” Antonio reminded his friend, “Not to mention, I’m in it too, and you promised me.”  
“I’m here aren’t I?” Feliciano groaned, climbing slowly out of the car and heading for the highschool’s front entrance as Antonio pulled a guitar case from his backseat. Once inside he followed a chipper Antonio towards the fine arts hall where they peeked through the windows of the different music rooms until they found a short-haired blonde senior talking with her friends. She leaned on a music stand, showing one of them something on her phone before noticing Antonio staring at her through the window with a mock-stern scowl.  
Emma waved in greeting, motioning for him to come inside which he did so with glee, dragging Feliciano behind him.  
“You’re late.” Emma said as her friends filed out of the room.  
“No, you were early.” Antonio pretended to argue before they both snickered. Emma turned to Feliciano, who had suddenly become much happier as he smiled at Emma.  
“And how are you?” She asked as he sat down, “I didn’t think you’d come-I thought you only listened to the finest quality.” She said, turning up her nose and putting on a conceited appearance.  
“I guess I can stomach otherwise, just this once.” Feliciano said, looking serious before he cracked into his own snickers, “I’m glad I get to watch you preform Emma. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  
“Good to know,” Emma said, turning to her music, “Because if I mess up this is the end of the world-my world.”  
“And we all know how important that is, so let’s get to work!” Antonio said, strumming the guitar he’d brought, “Basic warm-up, then a few run throughs, and I guess it’ll be our time to preform right?”  
Emma and Feliciano attended a highschool that contained one of those crazy music teachers who thought everyone was a star. This being the case, everyone had to have a spotlight so recitals ran rather long. Antonio didn’t mind though, he loved playing the guitar and the longer they had to wait meant the longer he got to strum and mess around.  
Emma didn’t seem to happy though, as they worked she steadily grew more and more anxious looking. Her eyes bugged, her brow sweated, and once in a while she’d trip up in singing a lyric here or there. Eventually she just sat back and covered her face with her hands.  
“I can’t do it.” She groaned, “I know I can’t.”  
“Sure you can!” Feliciano cried, “You sound amazing!”  
“You’re just saying that.”  
“I would never. Not when it comes to music like what you’re singing.”  
Which was true. Feliciano loved Opera. He was very picky when it came to the genre and if he didn’t like it, he let you know. Antonio grinned, thinking the compliment was a boost Emma certainly needed.  
Emma glowed as expected, smiling wide as a faint blush graced her cheeks. Feliciano smiled warmly and took her hands between his.  
“I know you’ll knock them dead tonight-you’ll be better than all the other students out there.”  
“Which should be soon,” Antonio muttered, glancing at his watch, “You’re slated to preform at Eight right?”  
“Yeah…”  
“It’s Seven fifty three.”  
Emma shot up as if electrocuted, “We gotta go. Now!”  
“Good thinking.” Antonio smirked, slinging his guitar onto his back and reaching for his case.  
Feliciano peeled off to grab a seat in the auditorium, leaving Antonio and Emma to hurry towards the door leading to the backstage. Several other students were lined up along the wings of the stage, watching as some boy sang in French to a piano accompaniment. Antonio mindlessly ran his finger along the strings of his guitar, watching as Emma began to fidget next to him and another student stepped up behind the curtain as the one on stage finished and took a bow. The audience exploded with applause which died fast when the student disappeared, replaced by one singing in Italian.  
Without warning, Emma’s music teacher appeared out of nowhere, pouncing on her student and directing her and Antonio to the front of the watching group behind the curtains. Antonio watched Emma’s face flash through nervousness, nausea, excitement, and then as the student currently preforming sounded like he was entering the ending of his song, Emma looked faint.  
“Here we go,” Antonio hissed as applause filled the auditorium.  
“Do we have to?” Emma hissed, nervously smiling as her teacher gave her a light push forward.  
Antonio dragged the piano bench out from behind it’s instrument, sitting down where the audience could see him and plucked a few warm up notes from his guitar. Standing in front of him, Emma cleared her voice and began to sing.  
It wasn’t a bad song, Antonio thought as he strummed along. Opera really wasn’t the kind of thing he listened to by choice, but if he’d been forced at gunpoint maybe he’d have chosen Emma’s song. She sounded like those radio stars you’d hear as you were chanel surfing through the stations, the one where you pause a second to listen to something beautiful, not your cup of tea, but beautiful.  
Squinting past the stage lights, he could make out Feliciano’s grinning face in the third or fourth row. This was his kind of music, had been for as long as Antonio had known the guy. He was all about the artsy, refined society stuff. He painted, listened to fancy music, ate fancy food, wore fancy clothes, and Antonio was pretty sure he could speak Italian or French or some other “fancy” language that had all the girls weak in the knees and melting at his feet.  
Emma was one of them, so where half the girls in their grade and quite a few of Antonio’s own significant others had been enamored with him the first time they’d met. Antonio never had to worry about Feliciano’s disloyalty, but he did have to worry about how weak his charm could make other people’s loyalty.  
It probably didn’t help his parents were those rich philanthropist types who were never around but their money was. Feliciano was raised stuck up, nice but stuck up. In fact, Antonio was sure he’d never met a nicer spoiled rich kid.  
Emma’s song climaxed and she began to wind down, voice going soft and sweet alongside the sudden gentle strums of Antonio’s guitar. Inbetween the stage curtains Antonio could see quite a few impressed looking kids and one very happy looking music teacher.  
Emma uttered the final note and the audience was silent only for the time it took for Antonio to stand up, then he and Emma were hit by a wall of sound as the applauding exploded from people’s hand and shouts. Feliciano was jumping up and down in his seat.  
Emma began to giggle, blushing again as she and Antonio made their way off the stage. Emma was swarmed by her classmates and teacher, leaving Antonio to make a solo escape out into the foyer where an excited Feliciano shot into him, wrapping his arms around his neck.  
“She was brilliant! She was brilliant!” He cried, “She was even better than when she was in the music room! It’s crazy!”  
“And you said you didn’t want to come.” Antonio said between trying to extract Feliciano from his neck and making sure his guitar didn’t fall from all the commotion.  
“I’m glad I was wrong!” Feliciano laughed, jumping off Antonio and stomping around in some sort of celebratory dance.  
“So am I,” Antonio sighed.  
It wasn’t much longer until the recitals ended and a sea of parents, teachers, music enthusiasts, and students filled the foyer. Some headed straight to cars, weaving between those who chose to block the hall and form large and loose groups to chat. Antonio and Feliciano together scanned the crowd until a bob of blonde hair popped up from the sea of faces and Emma was giggling as she hugged Antonio much in the same manner Feliciano did.  
“We were fantastic!” She cried, jumping up and down with Feliciano, their hands clasped together.  
“I know,” Antonio laughed before a bouquet of roses shoved their way into the group, allowing a tall and spiky blonde hair man to elbow his way into the small group.  
“These are for you.” He said awkwardly, holding them out to Emma. Emma blushed harder, taking the flowers and wrapping an arm around the man.  
“Thanks bro,” She laughed and Lars, her older brother, smiled.  
Lars was the kind who preffered to remain cold and calculating, emotion being something he seemed to either have to fake or have a lot of before it showed on his face. Antonio had always pegged him as “Mr. Ultra-Serious”, and taken every opportunity to point it out no matter how small it was.  
“Is that a smile?” He gasped, poking Lars’ cheek, “Feli look! A smile! From Lars!”  
“No way!” Feliciano cried a tad to loud, “It must have been a trick of the light!”  
“No, it’s a smile alright-although now it’s turned into a bit of a sour sneer.”  
“Aww, smilings so much nicer!”  
“Stop it,” Emma laughed, “Before he explodes.”  
“That can happen from keeping your feelings locked up inside mi amigo.” Antonio warned, waving a finger in Lars’ face.  
“So be careful!” Feliciano added.  
“You two are idiotic, I don’t know why my sister chooses to associate with you.” Lars growled.  
“She wants more variety of facial expressions in her life.” Antonio proposed.  
“She’s seeking to not become a cold robot.” Feliciano suggested.  
“She likes Feli.” Antonio said, grinning when the color drained from Emma’s face and Feliciano’s next words died on his tongue.  
Together, the two exploded on him.  
“How could you say that?! What in the world told you that?!”  
“I don’t think it’s nice to make such things up! Even if it’s for a joke!”  
“We could never be together!”  
“It’s the furthest thing from my mind!”  
“Hey, why are you yelling at me?” Antonio whined, “Didn’t I just play my heart out for you guys? You should reward me with ice cream or something.”  
“I could go for ice cream.” Lars said.  
“You just don’t want to be yelled at anymore!” Emma snarled.  
“You’re completely right, can we go now?”  
With a disapproving, acidic eye, Emma muttered, “Fine,” And headed for the door. Feliciano followed quickly after her, looking more embarrassed than angry. Lars fell into step with Antonio, his hands shoved into his pockets and his blue and white striped scarf blowing in the wind as they walked out the door.  
“So were you there for the whole performance or did you slip in the door as people started leaving?” Antonio asked quietly, earning another glare from Mr. Serious himself.  
“I was there for most of the performance-I got there seconds after she started.”  
Antonio whistled, “You must have really booked it, huh?”  
Lars shrugged, “I was busy with a client and things ran long, it’s not like I wasn’t doing anything.”  
“This time.”  
“Shut up before I have to make you.”  
Antonio chuckled, “I’m only teasing-I get how hard you work.”  
“Which is odd seeing as it looks like you don’t work at all.”  
“I wouldn’t call playing my guitar for a living as not working.”  
“Sorry, not working productively.”  
Antonio rolled his eyes, “Sorry Mr. Lawyer, I know I can’t compete with your bacon.”  
“You can’t.”  
Antonio was glad when he reached the cars, quickly escaping into his and turning the key before Feliciano had time to climb in. Emma disappeared into her brother’s and the two cars followed each other to a nearby Braum’s. The evening progressed slowly for Antonio, the mood seeming to chill for him with Lars’ presence there.  
It wasn’t that Lars was a jerk, or that Antonio didn’t like him, just he had that joy-killer vibe sometimes. Antonio was sure he never meant to be cold and heartless, but that was what he sometimes came off as when he wasn’t cracking sarcastic and rather cutting one liners.  
Antonio was still smarting from the comment of his employment, a guitar player for a local club’s band. A strip club’s band.  
Yeah, he wasn’t to proud of his life choices either.  
But that didn’t mean he wanted to hear about it from the Lawyer Man, who was able to buy his little sister that new dress she wanted for Christmas and always had the spending money she needed at the blink of an eye. It was almost like she was an only child, doted on by her big brother the way she was.  
Rich kid status was something Lars, Feliciano, and Emma all shared. Something Antonio had never had the luxury of, being a maid and electrician’s son. The most time he spent in fancy houses was when his mom brought him with her to clean the Vargas house, where Feliciano grew up.  
And… him…  
Antonio mentally shook himself, surprised a thought like that had resurfaced after such a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

The day started like any other: a nice wakeup call from the ever gentle Gerhalt, who proceeded to watch them as they showered one by one before ordering them downstairs for a breakfast cooked by Grandpa.  
Except today, when Lovino attempted to put on a shirt over his undershirt, Gerhalt stopped him.  
“Not today boys.” He said, a smirk gracing his mouth before it snarled for them to get going.  
So now Lovino sat at the breakfast table, cold and miserable as he chewed his breakfast. Wearing so little, it must mean potential clients. Lovino wished they could have had a little longer before getting thrown back into work, he’d have loved even just a few more hours of feeling nice and clean before whoever it was showed up.  
“Now boys,” Grandpa began, combing Mattie’s wavy blonde hair as he’d always done before a client came, “Be sure to be on your best behavior. First impressions are always important-and the first of the first impressions is the most important.” He tugged a little at a knot and Mattie winced when it came undone, “And don’t forget your names.”  
Each of the boys had a “stage name” the clients reffered to them as. Ludwig sometimes forgot he was supposed to say his name was Goldie, not Ludwig, while Mattie had said he died a little whenever someone called him Blondie.  
Ivan didn’t seem to upset at the name Sunny, in fact Sunny seemed more like a character he created in his head whenever he had to use it  
Lovino grumbled, he hated clients. They were all mean, old, and creepy. They were also extremely rough-or maybe Lovino just had that special something that attracted those kinds of clients because he never heard Mattie, Ludwig, or Ivan complain once (well, Ludwig cried the first few times-sometimes still did). Although, now that he thought about, Mattie and Ivan didn’t really say much most of the time, so maybe they just kept it all bottled up?  
There was a knock at the door and an old sense of dread flared up inside Lovino.  
Looking giddy, Grandpa set the comb down and hurried to answer the door. The moment they were left alone in the kitchen, Lovino leaned forward and looked the others in the eye.  
“Remember, just think about something else. It’ll be over soon.” He mainly spoke to Ludwig, who’d gone rather still.  
Even though Ludwig had been with them since he was five, not many client’s had been allowed to take him. Grandpa had his favorites, and Ludwig had been among them until he’d grown to an age that had been deemed “old enough”. That was how it was with all of them, Grandpa trained them, Gerhalt and the General trained them some more, then when they were ready they went out and made some money for their caretakers.  
It was an old cycle, an accepted cycle they’d all come to rely on.  
But they were still scared. Lovino often had nightmares of his rougher clients-not that they all didn’t, but he’d been at it longer; he had more nightmare fuel than he knew what to do with.  
Without warning, Grandpa reappeared with three men behind him. Lovino tried not to look at their faces, tried to make sure he wouldn’t remember them later. They all looked the same after awhile anyway, old and creepy. Or just creepy.  
“As you can see, they’ve been waiting,” Grandpa said, waving his wrist with a flourish.  
“So pretty,” One said, reaching out to take Mattie’s face in his hands, “I love the color of your eyes.”  
Mattie remained quiet and stone-faced, waiting.  
“What? No thank you for the compliment?” The man frowned before grinning, “Shy, aren’t you?”  
Quickly, with a pointed look from Gerhalt who stood waiting in the kitchen entrance, Mattie smiled sweetly.  
“I think I’d like to get to know this one,” the man said, turning to Grandpa and his friends. With a nod of approval from Grandpa, the man took Mattie’s hand and disappeared into the living room.  
“I know you boys only paid for a taste today,” Grandpa sighed to the remaining men, “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have fun, go ahead. They won’t bite-this time.”  
“That’s a shame,” The man from last night chuckled as he bent down to be eye-level with Ludwig, “I was hoping you had a wild side.”  
Ludwig went an extra shade of pale.  
“Come on, we can go talk.” The man said, offering his hand. Ludwig took it with his own shaking one, looking back at Lovino and Ivan with a desperate look in his eye before he disappeared from view.  
“And for you sir?” Grandpa asked, looking about as excited as a car salesman who’d drunk to much coffee.  
“Well, I don’t want to be rude and exclude one over the other,” The man sighed, “But I only paid for one didn’t I?”  
“That you did.” Gerhalt nodded before Grandpa shooed him away from the kitchen.  
Without saying anything else, the man strode forward and grabbed Lovino by the arm. Grandpa’s grin went wider and Lovino caught Ivan releasing a breath he’d been holding. He’d probably be more offended if he hadn’t done the same when it was Ivan picked and not him.  
“And since you paid the extra,” Grandpa said softly, “I can take you to the Room.”  
“Room?” The man questioned, reaching down to hold Lovino’s hand.  
“A special, ah, private sector for higher paying clients.” Grandpa said, “Follow me.”  
As they crossed through the living room there were shouts and cheers as the man’s friends urged him on, congratulating him as Grandpa unlocked the door and showed both he and Lovino inside.  
“You’re our first customer to use it,” Grandpa said, admiring himself in the mirror on the wall, “We finished setting it up yesterday.”  
“I can see, it looks nice.”  
What had once been an empty master bedroom was now something straight out of a Home Improvement magazine. Plush carpets lay around the bed, which was covered in blankets, pillows, and it’s curtains hung ready to close at a moment’s notice. A cd player sat on a large dark dresser, alongside an entertainment system. Near the window, dressed with black out curtains, sat a small desk with plenty of fancy figurines sitting along it’s back edge.  
“It’s always the first room we set up-even before our own.” Grandpa said, edging towards the door, “We’re always prepared for everything. That being said, you should find everything you need in any of the drawers, and feel free to wash up later, everything in here is at your disposal.”  
“I’ll be sure to.” The man said, looking at Lovino hungrily. No matter how many times he’d done this, Lovino still felt his stomach drop in fear whenever someone did that.  
Grandpa giggled before closing the door, leaving them alone.  
The man turned to Lovino, pushing him onto the bed and getting in his face, forcing Lovino to look at him. He was fair skinned, with dark hair that was gelled back minus a small curl that sat crooked near the top of his head. He grinned, reaching down to touch Lovino’s neck with his teeth and Lovino fought to not cringe.  
“You seem rather uptight,” The man said, his hands beginning to wander, “Perhaps we can fix that?”  
Lovino kept his mouth shut, the man’s hands cold against his stomach.  
“Come on, talk to me.” He said, “Say something. What’s your name?”  
Lovino internally groaned, he hated that stupid name. It was meant as more as a mean spirited joke in return for his stubborn bullheadedness during his training instead of a name meant to sound, well, sexy.  
“Come on, here I’ll go first,” The man said as he continued to touch and prod Lovino, looking for weak spots, “My friends call me Romeo. What do yours call you?”  
Lovino gave a small gasp as the man pressed to hard before forcing out,  
“Cinnamon.”  
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When Romeo had finished with Lovino, he had the two of them lay across the soiled bed sheets, enjoying the view of Lovino before turning onto his back and heaving a sigh.  
“It’s a good thing you guys set up shop here.” He said, “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in a while.”  
Lovino quietly contemplated slowly edging the covers over himself. Dirty or not it was cold now that he was doing nothing but laying naked in the open air.  
“In fact, I know I haven’t had that much fun in a while.” Romeo continued, turning to press himself to Lovino’s side, “How about you? Anyone as good as me?”  
Plenty, Lovino thought, More than I can count with all my limbs.  
“Back to the silent treatment huh?” Romeo sighed, trailing a finger up Lovino’s arm, “That’s to bad… I like your voice. It can be very loud.”  
Lovino flushed, wishing not for the first time he could get up and leave.  
But then he’d get in trouble.  
And Grandpa would be mad.  
The fingers stroking his face brought Lovino back to the physical world as Romeo leaned forward to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek.  
“Well, I’ve had my fun Cinny,” He giggled, “And I think my friends are waiting for me so we can go home for the day.” He stood up, plucking his clothes from their pile on the carpet and proceeding to put them on, glancing one final time at Lovino before heading for the door.  
“Until next time, my love.” He said, sounding almost wistful, then disappeared through the door where there were many loud exclamations of praise and jealousy, which began to fade as the men and Romeo no doubt made their way toward the door. A slam sounded throughout the house, seeming to break a spell over everyone as the tense atmosphere faded and was replaced by Lovino’s sudden need to be clean.  
He rose from the bedsheets, wincing, and picked up his own gray tank top and boxer shorts, going to stand beside the door leading to the master bath and waited until someone came in.  
It was Gerhalt, maybe twenty minutes later. He looked over the few hickeys blossoming over Lovino’s shoulders and neck with a smirk before pointing towards the bedroom door. Lovino scurried toward it, heading upstairs where he was followed by a satisfied looking Gerhalt into the bathroom where the shower was thrown on as hot as it could go.  
He still felt numb inside, like he was there but not really. It was a trick he’d learned over the years; it seemed to make things a bit better when Lovino felt he was at a breaking point. Before, he’d actually broken down into tears if someone so much as touched him. But now, he simply retreated into an odd state where he could see and feel what was done around him, done too him, but he didn’t feel that sick twist in his gut or the urge to recoil. He didn’t feel like crying or screaming or shouting. He only felt a small bit of boredom as he waited for things to be over, like he was waiting out a bad storm or something.  
It was a trick he’d taught to the others, something Ivan mastered quicker than Lovino had and something Ludwig still fought to control whenever someone came near him. There was still the odd shout, the scream or cry, and then the disgruntled client who would storm out the door as Ludwig was dragged off towards the closet to be punished and the others were left to walk on tip toes the rest of the night.  
But Ludwig would get it, eventually. He had to, otherwise he’d never make it around here.  
The water began to turn cold and Lovino shut it off, having finished scrubbing himself down anyway. He donned his gray clothing, using the towel Gerhalt held out for him to squeeze his hair dry before he was escorted to his shared room, where the others were already waiting on their cots.  
It was barely light outside, the last dying gasps of sunset fading quickly into oblivion. Lovino could barely see the pained, awkward expression breaking out across Ludwig’s face as he fidgeted where he sat. Mattie and Ivan stared at the opposite walls, Mattie’s knees drawn up to his chest as he held tight to his toy polar bear.  
Still wincing, Lovino sat down on his own cot, laying down after a second and letting out a great sigh. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, tugging at his eyes and making every bone in his body heavier than lead. He looked around the room again, wishing his roommates a mental goodnight and closed his eyes.  
It would be hours later he’d be awoken by Mattie shaking his shoulder roughly, a cold sweat covering his brow and a small scream dying before it could pass his lips.  
He’d managed to remove himself when the things were being done to him, he hadn’t quite mastered on keeping himself removed after the fact. Ludwig would be making similar sounds from his cot, only smaller and softer. Nothing had happened to him in comparison, but Lovino would get up and lay beside him anyway, glad to have something warm and alive to hold onto that wasn’t trying to do things to him for the night.


	6. Chapter 6

Kiku Honda was the kind of boy to sit there and observe before asking questions, Alfred observed. From the way he sat at the lunch table, eating from what he’d called a “bento box” (a lunchbox with everything mushed inside together), watching while the kids around them talked and laughed.  
Toris and Feliks, a blonde effeminate boy, terrorized each other across the table. The two shared the kind of relationship where you couldn’t determine whether or not they were dating or just that close of friends. It probably didn’t help that Feliks seemed to think both were true and often acted like it, usually resulting in Toris freaking out and running away.  
As the two bickered (or bantered), Kiku watched silently from his seat while Alfred laughed. In the few days they’d gotten to know him, Kiku had rarely showed much emotion other than interest at the people he’d met. He’d never really smiled, never really reacted to anything around him (other than relief when he was passed over for partners with Carlos in gym-that kid could rip a tank apart with his bare hands!)  
Speaking of Carlos, the beefy and loud senior only a year older than Alfred, he was currently storming towards their little table. He didn’t look happy, then again he rarely did unless he was on the football field, and his eyes had zeroed in on Alfred’s face.  
Alfred had known Carlos since he was a kid, the two had lived on the same street for about three years before Carlos had moved to the very edge of the school’s boundaries and Alfred had briefly been able to convince himself he’d seen the last of what he considered to be a rejected lab gorilla experimentation gone wrong. Then Carlos had showed up at his house because his dad hired him to mow the lawn (Alfred was certain his parents knew of their rivalry and hired the lab gorilla out of spite) and Alfred had decided no place could ever be sacred again if that lump of muscle and gnashing teeth was breathing.  
Alfred wasn’t entirely sure what caused their burning rivalry, if anything they should probably be the best of friends. Both loved football, both played football for school, and both hated math with a passion (many a tutoring session had been spent with the two of them locked in a classroom together). Alfred was pretty sure they liked the same greasy hot dogs and hamburgers from all the local fast food places too.  
But alas, whenever they saw each other Alfred threw up a little in his mouth. They’d hated each other for so long they’d forgotten why really. Probably because Carlos did something… Alfred assured himself it was because Carlos did something.  
The hulking mouthbreather stopped in front of their table, glowering at Alfred.  
“Yes?” Alfred asked, arching an eyebrow.  
“Coach says practice is cancelled.” Carlos muttered, gesturing to Kiku, “Who’s the bean pole?”  
“The new student is Kiku Honda.” Alfred spat. Beside him, Kiku’s attention was gained by the mention of his name.  
“Ah, fresh meat huh?” Carlos grinned, “Can’t wait to break him in.”  
“Already did,” Alfred said, lazily flicking imaginary dust off his bomber jacket, “He’s my meat Carlos.”  
“Like string bean and blondie over here?” Carlos laughed, “You certainly have a weird little menagerie of friends.”  
“I’m surprised you even knew that word,” Alfred said, looking up at a livid Carlos, “Congratulations.”  
Probably because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, or at least that’s what Alfred told himself, Carlos sent the table one last menacing sneer before retreating into the sea of students in the lunchroom.  
“Well that was unpleasant.” Kiku muttered.  
“He always is.” Alfred grumbled.  
“He’s pretty nice when you’re not around Alfred…” Toris muttered.  
“Yeah, like, he actually grinned at a joke I made once in science class.” Feliks added.  
“Whatever.”  
“So it’s a longtime rivalry between just the two of you?” Kiku said, “Interesting…”  
“Not really.” Alfred muttered, “He’s a jerk, I retaliate, we repeat the next time we see each other.”  
“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Kiku nodded, “How long has this been going?”  
“Since we were kids.”  
Kiku’s eyes had begun to glow, and Alfred noticed the corner of his mouth was trying to twitch into a smile the rest of his face wouldn’t allow.  
“That is quite the story Alfred,” Kiku said slowly, “A very tragic one indeed.”  
After a few moments of silence, Alfred squinting in confusion at this kid, he turned back to his lunch.  
“You’re a weird kid Kiku.”  
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The afterschool bell’s scream opened the floodgates for students as they rushed towards the front doors of the school. The slam of lockers and the thunder of footsteps came and went in the span of maybe five minutes, leaving behind emptier halls and a sense of loneliness to any who still lingered.  
Alfred happened to be one of those unfortunate few, he was dragging his feet as he made his way towards his math class for tutoring. He didn’t want to go, but another failing grade in that class and his Dad would be all over him. His Father too, but at least he would be willing to help, Dad would probably just yell-after all the written word was more his forte than math ever would be; there wasn’t much else he could do besides chastise Alfred for “not trying harder” or “slacking off”.  
“Alfred?”  
Alfred turned to see Kiku turning the corner of a nearby hallway, frowning at seeing Alfred here when Alfred had made it a point to be out the door before anyone else.  
“Hey Honda,” Alfred grinned, happy to have more of a reason to procrastinate.  
“What are you doing here?”  
“Oh,” Alfred sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well, I needed to go ask my teacher some homework questions-anymore bad grades in math and my dads will have my hide.”  
“What sort of math?”  
“Academic-it’s basic stuff I know, especially so early in the year, but I’ve never been good at the subject.”  
“Can I see?”  
Alfred didn’t see why not, and so he turned to dig for his math book in his bag. When he handed it to Kiku, his friend flipped slowly through the pages, reading everything and nodding slowly. Then he looked up at Alfred and snapped the book closed.  
“I could help you.” He offered, “At my old school I helped with a few study groups, I’m pretty sure this would be easy to explain.” He gestured to Alfred’s notebook.  
Alfred grinned, “Really? Ah man! That’d be great! Anything to not have to visit that old hag!”  
Kiku smiled, “Would you like to do some of it tonight or later in the week?”  
“Tonight please!” Alfred said, bouncing up and down, “The sooner I get this junk done the better!”  
“Alright.”  
It was a long walk towards home, almost twenty minutes, but time seemed to fly as Alfred and Kiku talked and hurried down the different neighborhood streets, Alfred bouncing across the pavement here and there as his antics led to elaborate story telling that incorporated his whole body as visual pieces. Kiku kept it going with a well-placed word here or there, sometimes only a nod or look of attention.  
When they reached Alfred’s front door, the boy was sweating and panting after having sprinted up the driveway.  
“Home sweet home!” He grinned, waving his arm around the front entrance of his house.  
“It’s a nice place,” Kiku said, removing his shoes and setting them next to the front door as Alfred tossed his by a messy shoe rack.  
“My Father is gonna love to hear you say that,” Alfred laughed, “Come on, my room’s upstairs.”  
Kiku craned his neck around the different corners of the house as he passed them, following Alfred closely, “Are you parent’s not home yet?”  
“I guess my dad had another meeting with his editor, and my Father is a photographer, so he’s probably out somewhere snapping pictures.” Alfred scratched his chin, “Maybe I should text one of them and find out what the plan is for tonight.”  
“Probably…” Kiku nodded, following Alfred into his bedroom, nearly tripping on an abandoned baseball.  
Alfred quickly learned Kiku was a stern instructor. He immeadiatly set Alfred to work on his homework, pulling out his own but stopping every few minutes to check Alfred’s work or explain a problem. It was slow going, but after about an hour and a half Alfred declared his undying devotion to Kiku, his new hero and all-around saint.  
“Please,” Kiku blushed awkwardly, “A simple thank you will suffice.”  
“Seriously dude! You’re even better than my Father! Half the time I still don’t understand what he’s talking about, but with you I can walk into that quiz tomorrow and I know I’m gonna ace the whole thing!”  
“Well that’s good to hear.” A voice said from the doorway. Both Alfred and Kiku turned to see Alfred’s dad standing there against the door with his arms crossed and a grin on his face.  
“Hey dad.” Alfred said.  
“Evening,” His dad said, stepping into the room and extending his hand to Kiku, “I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Alfred’s dad, Arthur Kirkland.”  
“Kiku Honda.” Kiku said, shaking the hand firmly.  
“Good grip,” Alfred’s dad commented, “Good man.”  
“Dad…” Alfred rolled his eyes, leaning to Kiku, “He’s into all that gentlemanly stuff-don’t be surprised if he nitpicks your eating habits or something.”  
“The only eating habits I nitpick are yours young man-and that’s because they’re so deplorable.”  
“Ooh, big word!” Alfred said sarcastically, earning an eye roll from his dad, “When’s Pop getting home?”  
His dad frowned, checking his phone before giving a shrug, “Soon, I suppose. He’s getting takeout, Kiku, are you going to eat with us?”  
Kiku frowned, then slowly shook his head, “My apologies, my dad’s expecting me home soon, so I can’t.”  
“Darn,” Alfred sighed, “Next time?”  
“Maybe.” Kiku smiled.  
“Well then, it was nice meeting you Kiku,” Alfred’s dad said, “I hope I will again.”  
“Yes sir, Mr. Kirkland.”  
When Alfred’s dad disappeared through the door again, Alfred snorted.  
“He likes you,” He said, “I could tell.”  
“That’s good, right?”  
“Definitely,” Alfred nodded, “Although now he’s going to add you to the list of people I should invite over when I don’t feel like it.”  
“I can understand that,” Kiku, forever a hermit, said, “It’s nice being alone sometimes.”  
“Sometimes,” Alfred nodded before turning to look at his school stuff again, “Well, guess I should hit those history notes real fast-maybe you could help me with those too?”  
“I can try, although it’s not exactly my forte.” Kiku nodded, “But, ah, first, um, where’s your bathroom?”  
“Oh, third door down the hall,” Alfred said, “If there’s not enough TP in there just look in the hall closet.”  
Kiku nodded, getting up and closing the bedroom door behind him. Downstairs, he could hear Alfred’s dad shuffling around. There was a bang or two from what Kiku assumed was a pot or pan and he wondered if the man was trying to cook something-and then he remembered Alfred had looked relieved upon the news his father was going to pick up takeout. He wondered why that was, perhaps the family usually got food from a really nice place? Or maybe Alfred didn’t like home cooking?  
Kiku opened the door and was met with a stack of towels at his eye level. He frowned, stepping back and realizing he’d nearly tried to walk into a small closet. Below the towels, he noticed the aforementioned toilet paper Alfred wasn’t sure whether or not he’d need.  
Wondering which door was the right one, Kiku closed the hall closet and looked along each side of the hall. Three doors on either side, and he wondered what so many doors could lead to.  
Now which door had Alfred said it was again?  
Unable to remember, and cursing himself as a result, Kiku decided to pick a door at random. He gripped the door handle and turned, finding he’d chosen wrong again. He peered slowly into a dark room, sneezing hard when dozens of dust particles somehow managed to find their way up his nose.  
It was a room you’d expect to belong to a younger kid. There was a small bed by the window, a tall bookshelf with only about half the shelves filled with books and the rest with toys and dolls. Polar bears covered the top shelf, little figurines and small toys all either smiling down at Kiku or playing in snow. There was a snow globe of a polar bear, in it he was raised onto his hind legs as if he were about to start dancing.  
Clothes and shoes littered the floor alongside discarded magazines and hockey equipment. A large number of hockey posters lined the walls, all framed and covered in dust.  
“What are you doing?”  
Kiku jumped, turning quickly around to see Alfred staring at him suspiciously, the beginning signs of anger twitching at the corners of his eyes.  
“Ah, I’m so sorry Alfred… I got a little turned around searching for the bathroom and when I opened the door…”  
“Right,” Alfred nodded, no longer looking mad or suspicious, but still a bit put out. He pointed to the door right next to the dusty bedroom, “That one’s the bathroom. Sorry, should have been clearer I guess.”  
“My apologies.” Kiku muttered, trying to hide how red his face was. After a moment of silence, he peeked up at Alfred, who’d stepped forward to close the door to the dark bedroom.  
“Ah… if you don’t mind my asking…”  
“I do.”  
“Oh… well… alright-“  
“It’s not that I’m mad or anything,” Alfred said quickly, “It’s just… painful to talk about alright?”  
“I understand.” Kiku said, even though he really didn’t.  
As if he knew Kiku didn’t understand, possibly couldn’t understand, Alfred nodded and turned to retreat to his own bedroom.  
“Just hurry up, alright?” Was the last thing Kiku heard before the door closed.


	7. Chapter 7

Luwdig’s burning throat and inability to breathe through his nose woke him that morning long before Gerhalt had the chance to storm into the room. He lay there quietly, throat aching and his stomach churning, trying to convince himself it was all in his head and that he’d be fine.  
He had to be fine.  
Then, with a violent slam of the door Gerhalt was there yelling for them to get up. Ludwig’s head throbbed at the noise but he swallowed it down, forcing himself to sit up and not shiver as around him the others dug for fresh clothes and toothbrushes.  
Last to shower, as usual, Ludwig had plenty of time to lean against the wall in the hallway and space out, Mattie standing quietly beside him, fighting to not fall asleep standing up. It was harder then it should have been, his entire body seeming to beg to go back to the cot.  
When it was finally his turn to shower, he leaned against the tile and half-heartedly scrubbed the shampoo through his hair, his movements slow as molasses before Gerhalt snapped for him to hurry it up. Apparantly he didn’t hurry fast enough even then for the older man because the moment he stepped out of the shower he’d barely had time to throw clothes on before Gerhalt snatched him by the wrist and dragged him downstairs. The others were sitting waiting for them and Grandpa frowned when Ludwig sat down, erupting into a brief coughing fit.  
“Oh dear… Luddy, are you alright?”  
“Yes…” Ludwig said, catching the anxious glance sent by the other three.  
“Are you sure,” Grandpa stood up, rounding the table and kneeling so he was eyelevel with Ludwig, “You don’t look alright.”  
“I feel fine,” Ludwig said before sneezing.  
“I’m sure…” Grandpa sighed, reaching up to feel his forehead. He withdrew quickly, shaking his hand as if were burned and giving Ludwig a pitying look.  
“Oh sweet heart, my room. Now.”  
Ludwig cast a nervous look to the others, who were watching the two of them anxiously. Lovino in particular looked incredibly sympathetic as Grandpa took Ludwig by the arm and lead him back up the stairs. His room was dressed as if to be the most inviting thing in the world but Ludwig felt anything but comfortable inside.  
He sat down on the plush bed, covered in hundreds of pillows and blankets, the mattress sinking under his weight. Grandpa shooed him further onto the bed, up against the pillows and covering him with blankets, tucking him in tightly.  
“Just rest here, alright?” He said, “We’ll have you right as rain in no time.”  
His body betraying him, Ludwig felt his head fall back against his will, eyes slipping shut before had a chance to think. Beside him, he could feel Grandpa’s weight dip the bed and a pair of large warm arms wrapped around him. Ludwig stiffened at the contact, both because his illness made him overly sensitive to contact and because Grandpa had buried his nose in Ludwig’s hair, breathing softly and slowly.  
“You worry me sometimes Luddy,” Grandpa whispered after a moment. Ludwig squirmed in his hold as the man’s arms tightened.  
“Somehow, I worry that maybe you’re not cut out for what we do here-what your brothers do here.” Grandpa sighed, moving closer, “And if there’s no way you can preform, well… how am I supposed to convince Gerhalt and the General to keep you?”  
Ludwig swallowed, opening his eyes and looking up at Grandpa, who was smiling softly.  
“You understand right?” Grandpa asked gently, reaching up to smooth Ludwig’s bangs back, “We need money to put food in your mouth and clothes on your back, and how are we supposed to do that when you can’t preform?”  
Ludwig understood. He could be thrown away like trash if he wasn’t careful. Left out on the street in the cold and no idea what to do or where to go. Yes, he’d love nothing more than to leave this place and never look back, but what then? His friends were here, the only people he’d ever known. There were shadows of memories, more like dreams, where he could see someone loud and obnoxious smiling at him, yelling at him, holding his hand, but nothing distinct. This, here, with Grandpa and the others, that was what he knew and understood. He knew how to keep out of the worst danger here, how to not make his caretakers mad or upset his friends… out there? He’d probably get hurt in five minutes flat.  
“I understand…” He whispered, throat hurting.  
Grandpa smiled, nuzzling his nose in Ludwig’s hair, “I know you do… but Gerhalt? The General? They doubt… and if you’re sick then maybe that’s the final straw.”  
Ludwig felt an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach and it wasn’t a signal he was about to be sick.  
“We have to prove to them you’re able to work, don’t we?” Grandpa continued, “We have to show them you belong here.”  
Ludwig nodded slowly.  
“I know how… but you have to agree, alright? We have to work together.” Grandpa pressed a kiss to Ludwig’s temple, “Tommorow, bright and early, you and I are going on a trip. We’re going to go visit that nice man from yesterday-the one we met at the restaurant.”  
Ludwig wanted to protest-he always wanted to protest-but kept his mouth shut-as usual.  
“You’re going to make him happy, and that will make Gerhalt and the General happy, meaning you will be happy.” Grandpa looked Ludwig in the eye, “Understand?”  
Ludwig swallowed, slowly nodding as the pain in his head made itself more pronounced.  
“Say it, aloud.” Grandpa whispered.  
“I understand.”  
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The morning arrived much like any other had that past week, quietly and with a small drizzle of rain. As his alarm sounded Gilbert watched out the window as gray skies rolled overhead and rain threw itself here and there outside.  
He reached over to silence his alarm before slumping back against the pillows, enjoying the silence for just a few more minutes before he had to get up and start his day. He was tired, he didn’t want to get up in actuality. That day Roderich allowed him to leave early had been the last day of peace he’d had all week. The next morning there was a fight downtown, near his own apartment actually, and the rest of the day was filled with speeding cars in school zones and misdemeanors by kids that could have been Luddy’s age…  
Gilbert groaned, throwing himself forward into a sitting position and looking outside again. The sky matched his mood, and by the forecast he’d glanced over last night it promised to stay that way.  
He huffed, climbing out of bed and heading for his closet. He scooped up the pants from last night, confirming the spaghetti sauce stain on the thigh was indeed not as big a deal as he’d thought it might be, and pulled them on. As he looked for and finally found the rest of what he needed to be properly dressed he then ventured further into the far back of the closet and reached towards the back of the high shelf.  
Pulling out a box that’s cardboard was as old and battered as Gilbert felt at the moment, with tape heaped along the edges and the opening in layers upon layers. Sighing, he turned and made his way out the door, dumping the box on his table before stomping around the apartment to collect the things he needed.  
A bag, his wallet and keys, and finally an umbrella he rescued from the dusty yet organized clutter of his closet. Taking a prepatory breath, he scooped the box up from the table and headed out the door where his umbrella was immediately assaulted by the rain. He’d barely managed to lock the front door before he was wrestling with the wind to keep hold of his umbrella as he walked down the street. People that passed him were doing much of the same things, rushing through the wet puddles to get out of the freezing rain and wind. Gilbert’s legs were splashed quite a few times as he walked, his jeans hugging his ankles and lower calves like a slimy second skin.  
His first stop was the supermarket that sat among the older suburbs and more rundown apartment complexes. It was what people called the “Scary Walmart” because that’s where a lot of the more… interesting… customers came to shop-especially at night. But he had some much needed shopping to get out of the way and the sooner he got it over with the better.  
Walking towards the bakery, Gilbert looked out amongst the different sugary cupcakes and cakes waiting to be chosen. He judged them on size, color, appeal, and just how much he’d actually want it.  
He couldn’t help but think of Roderich’s cakes and for a moment he was tempted to call him. He stopped himself before he even had a chance to reach for his phone, remembering he’d left it at the apartment anyway and so he continued on towards the frozen foods section.  
Gilbert knew today was going to suck, and it only added to the guilt he felt about today because it wasn’t supposed to suck.  
But it did suck-and he only had himself to blame for it. Gilbert threw frozen tv dinners into a hand basket, stomping towards toiletries and reminding himself he needed to find something nice to take with him tonight-nothing rushed, nothing lazy. He had to do this right.  
Roddy would probably try calling, and when that wouldn’t work he’d probably drag his wife to Gilbert’s apartment. That made Gilbert wonder if he should perhaps head back to make sure he really did have everything for today. Usually after Roderich and Elizabeta tried his place they gave up-meaning it’d be better if he weren’t there in the first place.  
Looking over the things he’d gathered, Gilbert wondered if it were enough. Toothpaste, cereal, deodorant, hmm… yeah this should be enough to make it till next week. He turned his attention towards the display of flowers standing nearby but quickly turned away.  
He didn’t want to embarrass his brother after all.  
With a nod to his basket, he headed towards the checkout, where he’d spend the entire wait in line digging through his bag for his wallet before remembering it was in his pocket. Walking home, he’d dump the groceries on the table and hurry for his car, swearing he’d seen Roddy’s car passing his on it’s way to the apartment complex before settling into the pleather seat and forcing himself to relax. The box had been extracted from his bag and set carefully in his trunk as he left, cushioned by the large picnic blanket he kept back there.  
He’d spend the rest of the day driving around town, generally wasting time, and slipping through the occasional drive through when he felt like eating. All the while the rain pelted down from above and Gilbert had to wonder if it was indeed connected to what today was somehow…  
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Gilbert arrived on the outskirts of town just as the rain took a more intense turn. He drove his car carefully from the paved road and towards a grassy clearing, managing to park in mud and nearly slipping on his way out of the car. Catching himself at the last moment, he carefully marched around the car towards the trunk, opening it and sitting on the edge as he rooted through it’s contents for what he needed.  
The picnic blanket, the box, and his umbrella. He wrapped the box in the blanket before standing and popping open the umbrella, closing his trunk and locking the car as he marched towards the empty clearing.  
It was a rundown area, nothing of much worth growing anywhere. Nothing really had a chance, this area was usually used for festivals and the passing carnival. There was still some litter hanging around from a concert that had been held here a few weeks ago and Gilbert did his best to avoid it as the world grew dark with the setting sun.  
Finally he came to the other edge of the clearing, where an outcropping of trees provided an almost non-existent cover from the rain. Gilbert sighed, realizing there was no helping it, and set his umbrella down and unwrapping the blanket. He set the box carefully down on the ground and turned to spreading the blanket out, weighing it down with fallen branches and nearby rocks he scratched out of the mud.  
Wiping his hands, he sat down on the blanket and reached out to grab his umbrella and the box. Pining the umbrella to his shoulder with his head, he extracted a pen knife from his pocket and stabbed the tape holding his box closed, slicing to the left and tearing it open.  
“Evening Luddy…” Gilbert whispered, setting the knife down beside him and pulling out a small framed picture of his brother. Setting it down in front of him, he pulled out a number of other photos he had, mainly Christmases and birthdays, and began to look through them. His baby brother, in some an actual baby, smiled back up at him in some, in others he either stared blankly at the camera or had been caught in the middle of crying. Gilbert stood or sat beside him in almost every single one, grinning wickedly. There was a particular favorite of his, where Ludwig was perhaps only a few months old and they were in their old house, sitting in front of a tv with Gilbert holding him, or realistically probably crushing him since the baby was so tightly pressed against his chest. Ludwig stared at the camera blankly, his expression seeming to ask why their grandfather was allowing Gilbert to manhandle him so and taking pictures of it. Gilbert meanwhile had the dumbest smile he’d ever seen on anyone’s face plastered all over his own.  
It was one of the few happy memories he treasured.  
When Gilbert was fifteen he’d basically been the man of the house. His real dad had split literally the night Ludwig was born. His grandfather, for all the smiles and comfort he could sometimes be bothered to provide, only passed through town occasionally when “business” didn’t have him somewhere else. He was usually a rather cold man in the first place so Gilbert never thought much of it anyway. His mom, the one charged with actually taking care of them, was never around, and Gilbert had to wonder how social services hadn’t been on their doorstep yet. He’d liked to kid himself that it was because somehow they knew he was a good caretaker. Somehow, with that “Big Brother” and “All Seeing Organizations” crap they knew no one had to worry about Ludwig’s welfare when Gilbert was there.  
Or maybe they did.  
Gilbert honestly didn’t know how it happened, even to this day, nine years later, he was still trying to understand. One moment Ludwig had been there, crying and throwing a tantrum as all five year olds usually do, and the next Gilbert was screaming his throat raw trying to find him.  
It had been a hot summer day, Gilbert remembered because he’d been worried about the two of them getting sunburns, and as an attempt to distract his baby brother from the heat Gilbert had taken him to the local fair being held as some sort of celebration to the arrival of summer. The food, the rides, the games, he’d been sure it would keep the kid happy for the day.  
They’d enjoyed being together, Gilbert picking up loose change from the ground (and unsuspecting passersby’s pockets) to keep them going when they ran out of their own spending money. Ludwig had won a stuffed bear at one of the games, and he proudly showed it off whenever he could to the people nearby.  
Gilbert remembered now, with a twist of revulsion and utter anguish, that a brunette man in his thirties had been especially congratulatory towards Ludwig. Gilbert hadn’t liked how close the man had tried to get around them, and felt an unpleasant tug in his gut every time he saw him after that around the fair but forced himself to think nothing of it-there had been a lot of false alarms lately and he’d been determined to show his little brother a good time.  
Then they’d deteriorated into a fight, over something Gilbert couldn’t even remember, and when Gilbert had turned the other way for barely a second Ludwig had run off in a rage.  
After that it was mainly a blur. All Gilbert remembered was tearing through the fair, knocking down people and stands in his way as finding his brother became harder and harder-eventually he’d been forced to give up when a couple of cops had grabbed him, dragged him to the security tent and he’d screamed himself hoarse trying to get them to understand his baby brother was missing.  
He’d keep screaming for years after that. At social workers, at foster homes, at the streets as he prowled the dingiest places whenever he heard there was a kid with blue eyes and blonde hair skulking around…  
And for years he’d scream at Fritz, the cop that stopped his manhandling of Gilbert to listen and then send out search parties that night. Fritz would scream right back sometimes, and other times he’d be there to listen as Gilbert screamed at other people-usually right before he pulled Gil out of a dangerous situation and dragged him right back to his aunt’s house where Roderich would be waiting to tell him off.  
Speaking of Roderich, Gilbert turned to see two figures approaching through the darkness and frowned when he saw Roddy and Eliza standing there, looking glad and a bit apprehensive. Like they were waiting for him to start shouting, which indeed crossed his mind at first glance but then he found he only had the energy to slump backwards into the grass as the rain continued to pelt him until Elizabeta held her umbrella over him.  
With a nod to Ludwig’s picture, Roderich sat on the blanket beside Gilbert and tugged open a plastic tuberware, inside a chocolate cake greeted them.  
  
_Happy Birthday Luddy_  
                                                                                                                     _15_

  
Gilbert swallowed an urge to cry and instead chose to for once embrace the uptight and stuffy Police Commissioner that was his cousin. On the other side, Elizabeta sat down and stared quietly at the barren clearing before pulling out a small box of matches and the three of them huddled close together as she lit a large one and five candle.  
The three shared a bit of a sheepish look, then Roderich began to sing softly,  
“Happy Birthday to you…” His voice was beautiful, he’d been a choir star growing up, “Happy Birthday to you…”  
“Happy Birthday dear Luddy…” Gilbert whispered in his own rough and amateur singing voice.  
“Happy Birthday to you…” Elizabeta joined in, voice soft and sweet.  
The candles flickered in the wind as they sang, and when they finally uttered the end of the song the flames gave a shudder and went out.  
Gilbert pretended for a moment that his brother had blown them out.


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you sure?” Grandpa groaned, leaning back in his chair.  
“I’m positive,” The General said, “If we want to keep buisness, we need to think about the future.”  
Gerhalt sighed, he’d grown bored of the conversation hours ago. The General had their books sprawled out infront of him, filled with Client information, figures, records, and he was jabbing the different papers with red pen here and circling there, trying to convince Grandpa of the state their little operation was running into. Things had to change apparently, and Grandpa had never been very good with change.  
“Listen to what I’m saying,” The General sighed, “Lovino’s getting a bit old for our clients-he’s already to old for a few of them.”  
“That’s fine, those guys were mean to him anyway.” Grandpa pouted, “Luddy can sate them, can’t he?”  
“Crybaby isn’t exactly their type.”  
“He’s not a crybaby,” Grandpa muttered.  
“You just coddled him for too long and now he’s having issues.” Gerhalt said snidely.  
“You don’t exactly help when you push them around so much, any more bruises and people are going to say we don’t treat these kids very well.” The General snapped.  
“Kids need direction, which I happily provide.”  
“Anyway,” The General sighed, “Ludwig might be to old for some of them to… and Grandpa, let’s face it, we lost three clients this past spring.”  
“How is that my problem?” Grandpa snapped, “They don’t like what we have, they need to relax and learn to enjoy what life has offered them-“  
“It wouldn’t hurt to have more options around.”  
“Can we even handle anymore?” Gerhalt asked, “We already have four to deal with.”  
“It could be two at the rate Ludwig and Lovino are going.” The General said.  
“I’m not throwing my kids out.” Grandpa huffed.  
Gerhalt sighed, Grandpa had always had problems with forming attatchments. If the money wasn’t so good here, and if Gerhalt had any other special life skills, he might have cut all ties with the annoying windbag and tried to find work where the employees didn’t hang on your arm and whine and go on and on about the importance of this or how cute that was.  
Gerhalt just wanted money, not the day to day issues of running four kids here and there and dealing with a coworker who wanted to declare his love to the afternoon sun (he did that once, he’d been rather drunk at the time and just stopped in the middle of the street screaming love to the sun-they nearly got arrested for the second time that day).  
“Well then what are we going to do when Lovino’s to old?” The General asked, “We can’t exactly keep him around if he can’t bring in money.”  
“We could expand our business into other markets…” Grandpa suggested, “He could do that.”  
“All he knows how to do is scream the right name and push all the right buttons.” Gerhalt sniggered.  
“Then we’ll teach him-duh!” Grandpa snapped.  
“I can see this is a conversation for another time,” The General sighed, “But seriously, we need to think about the future you two.”  
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The houses surrounding the lake house were unique, no two looked alike and yet the people populating them did.  
Rich, well fed and groomed, young or old they all seemed to glow with the wealth they lived on. They lounged around the front yards or jogged along the streets with earbuds shoved into their ears. Ludwig fidgeted in the front seat, his hands grabbing at his shirt, his knees, his elbows; he’d always been allowed to bring his dog along with him but today he’d been forbidden. Gerhalt had sneered, snatching the toy from him and declaring it was time he went by himself, like the others. Grandpa had not stopped him, which had seemed to seal Ludwig’s fate of being alone on this job.  
“Now remember Luddy,” Grandpa said as they drove, “He’s already paid for the afternoon so once that’s up I’ll be there to take you home-I’m not leaving you alone at all though, so don’t worry.”  
Ludwig had had a client once who’d been into breathplay, using his belt to wrap around Ludwig’s neck and cut off his airways over and over until he passed out, only to do it again when he came to. Ludwig had been alone that time, or thought he’d been as Gerhalt had stormed in wielding a gun and threatening to blow the client’s brains all over the wall.  
“He didn’t pay for anything to odd either,” Grandpa was saying, “Just a friendly afternoon between friends, alright?”  
“He’s not going to touch me?” Ludwig couldn’t help but ask.  
“He’s perfectly within his rights to,” Grandpa said, “He did pay after all.”  
Ludwig hoped there wouldn’t be much touching.  
They turned another corner and stopped in front of a large house where the drive circled a large fountain before letting out onto the road again. The house itself was impressive, looking like something out of a fairytale book with it’s overgrown ivy and interesting lawn statuettes. The windows were colored stained glass, and when the door opened the man from the pizzeria stood there looking excited.  
“Welcome,” He said, ushering Grandpa and Ludwig inside and directing them to the living room, “It’s so nice to see the both of you.”  
“Good afternoon Theodore,” Grandpa said, “I do hope you don’t mind me calling you Theodore-“  
“Yes, I think we’ve come to that point… Grandpa?”  
Grandpa smirked, “I don’t give anyone my real name, not even my coworkers.”  
“I understand,” Theordore smiled, turning to Ludwig, who’d sequestered himself into the furthest corner of the couch. His stomach churned and his face felt warm, “How are you today Ludwig?”  
“I’m fine…” The boy muttered quietly, trying to escape the man’s intense gaze. He didn’t feel good still, if anything he felt worse than yesterday and the way this man was looking at him was not helping matters.  
“Ludwig was happy to hear you wanted to meet with him again,” Grandpa said, “He couldn’t sleep last night he was so excited.”  
“Well if he’s tired, I’m sure we could think of restful things to do.” Theodore said, an impish grin crossing his face. Ludwig swallowed.  
“By all means, do whatever you two feel like,” Grandpa said, shooing Ludwig from the couch before settling himself further into it, “I’ll just be here, watching my programs.”  
“You’re staying?” Theodore frowned.  
“Company policy.” Grandpa smiled, “I have to make sure Ludwig is comfortable after all, don’t I?”  
“Well of course…” Theodore said after a moment, turning to usher Ludwig towards the hallway, “We’ll just go then.”  
“Have fun you two.” Grandpa said, reaching for the remote.  
Ludwig allowed Theodore to lead him through the halls, walls covered in family photos and interesting looking paintings, until the two of them came to a nicely furnished room. Ludwig supposed it was Theodore’s, the luggage shoved in the corner and hanging open showed a plethora of men’s clothes.  
Theodore left his side to look through the walk-in closet, sifting through the rack of clothes as Ludwig fidgeted awkwardly by the door. He wanted to run, he really did, but he knew better.  
“Grandpa told me you’re a shy one,” Theodore said, turning back from the closet holding a set of clothes far to small for him, “That not just any client can have their way with you.”  
Ludwig swallowed, wondering where this was going. The clothes in Theodore’s hands looked to be his size, a nice Sunday outfit complete with a tie and everything.  
“Well,” Theodore continued, inviting Ludwig to sit on the bed, “Just know I’m not like all the other clients-I plan to take care of you.” He smiled warmly, running a hand down Ludwig’s arm and leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. He frowned mid-kiss, pulling back and examining Ludwig’s face.  
“You’re a bit warm, did you sit in the sun all the way here?”  
Ludwig shook his head, throat twisting in enough ways he didn’t trust himself enough to speak.  
“Probably had the heater on in that damn car,” Theodore muttered, “Which I don’t understand, it’s October after all.” He looked Ludwig over again, this time more critically, then his face brightened and he set a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder.  
“Perhaps a cool bath? We can get your temperature down.”  
Not knowing how to decline without getting in trouble, Ludwig allowed himself to be lead to the bathroom next door, where Theodore took great pleasure of sitting himself down on the toiler and standing Ludwig right in front of him. Slowly, he unbuttoned the boy’s shirt and peeled it from his arms, fingers moving slowly to the pants and Ludwig’s underwear as Ludwig looked straight ahead at the wall, forcing himself to be still. He listened as Theodore muttered compliments and critiques, whispered sweet encouragements before turning to twist the bath knobs and water began filling the tub.  
Slowly, Ludwig sat down in the water, the lukewarm temperature a welcome change to the slowly rising heat he’d been feeling since yesterday. Rough hands rubbed water along his arms and chest, running fingers through his hair and encouraging him to lie back.  
His head was swimming and he felt funny, like he could feel everything and nothing at the same time. It hurt, and yet the warmth of the water soothed him as his throat continued to twist in pain and it felt like the pressure in his head amped higher and higher.  
“That’s it,” Theordore said softly, “Good boy…”  
After the water had grown cold Ludwig was wrapped in a fluffy towel, which Theodore had used to pat him dry, and escorted back to the bedroom. He let himself fall against the mattress, allowed Theodore to lie beside him and wrap him close. His head pounded and his stomach continued to twist until it was more than uncomfortable. It was painful, and saliva began to fill his mouth as he squirmed, jaw tightening with warning of what was coming. But he tried to swallow it down, to fight back. He had to do well here, had to make Grandpa and Gerhalt and the General proud of him… and that meant not being sick all over the client.  
“Hey,” Theodore frowned, not appreciating Ludwig pushing his arm away as he tried to spoon him, “What are you doing? Is this any way to treat-“  
He didn’t finish his sentence, instead he replaced it with a scream of surprise and fury.  
Ludwig had not been able to get away in time, and before he could do a thing to stop it breakfast had made an unscheduled reappearance before him, painting Theodore’s bed sheets and Theodore himself in egg and mushy toast. Ludwig scrambled to get away, falling off the bed and landing painfully on his backside as the door to the room burst open and Grandpa was standing there, witness to Ludwig’s transgressions.  
“What have you done?!” Grandpa cried, helping Ludwig stand before swatting the back of his head, “Clean this up! Now!”  
Theodore was already stripping the bed, and he flung them angrily at Ludwig before storming past them and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.  
“Just take him!” He called before the shower turned on.  
Grandpa spared the room one more glance before looking over to the still towel-wrapped Ludwig and groaning.  
“Nice going kid,” He sighed, peeling off his own jacket and throwing it at Ludwig, “Well, Gerhalt isn’t going to be happy.”  
At the mention of Gerhalt Ludwig’s blood turned to ice. If he’d been younger he might have even burst into tears, but now he managed to keep himself together to the point he merely shrunk in on himself and allowed a small whimper to escape his lips; going unheard by Grandpa as the older man stormed towards the door.  
Ludwig followed quietly after, wishing he could take everything back. He didn’t want to be in trouble, he didn’t want to get thrown out. If he could, he’d let Theodore do whatever he wanted right now if it meant he wouldn’t be facing a furious Gerhalt when they got back to the house.


	9. Chapter 9

“You know what Antonio? We should go to the beach.”  
Confused, Antonio looked up from his magazine to see Feliciano smiling up at him, Emma sitting beside him with a pleading and pouty lip tremble going at highspeed.  
“Where did this come from?” He asked, setting the magazine down on his counter.  
“Well,” Feliciano said, chopping a carrot into bits and throwing it into a mix of lettuce and other vegetables into a bowl beside him for dinner, “It’s been awhile, and we could all do with a break right?”  
“Like you’ve been working so hard?” Antonio snorted, “School’s barely started and you’re already going to take a break?”  
“School is hard!” Feliciano whined, “Especially for seniors like us!”  
“I’m already up all night in night sweats with nightmares!” Emma cried, throwing herself across the counter and accidentally sending Antonio’s magazine to the floor.  
“I would have thought you’d be up all night doing homework.” Antonio muttered dryly, “And anyway, why the beach?”  
“Because!” Feliciano and Emma cried in unison, “It’s the best place to be to relax!”  
“You could bring your guitar and play by the fire,” Feliciano suggested excitedly.  
“And we could all go swimming together-I really want to try body boarding!” Emma added, turning around and jumping up and down.  
“Who else would be going on this trip?” Antonio wondered.  
“Do we need anyone else?” Emma groaned, “We’ve always been fine just the three of us.”  
“Yeah,” Antonio sighed, “But who says it has to be just the three of us?”  
“Well Lars sure as hell doesn’t want to go.” Emma muttered.  
“Did you even ask him?”  
“And anyway,” Emma continued as if she hadn’t heard, “Who needs such a stuffy old moneybag?”  
“For the money?”  
“I say we go right now even!”  
“Emma, it’s nearly sunset, the beach is like… a days drive, and none of us are packed.” Antonio sighed.  
“I’ve been packing!” Feliciano grinned, “In fact I could probably go now if I wanted.”  
“Then let’s go!” Emma laughed, tugging at Feliciano’s hand, pulling him towards the door.  
“Hold it you two!” Antonio snapped, standing from his breakfast bar and approaching the two, who’d literally frozen halfway to the apartment door, “If we were to go, it would have to be next week.”  
“So we’re going?” Feliciano asked.  
“I didn’t say that,” Antonio grinned, “But if we did go… and assuming the club will let me off for a Friday and Saturday, which I’m sure they will with all the vacation time I’ve saved up, we need to be really prepared. That means a tent for the night, my guitar… oh, we’re gonna need a lot of crap aren’t we?”  
“So we are going!” Emma laughed, hugging Antonio.  
“I don’t know, I have to think about it.” Antonio sighed, returning the embrace, “But do make sure your schedules are cleared for next week.”  
“Awesome!” Feliciano laughed, returning to tossing the salad for dinner, “Oh, by the way, Emma, are you staying for dinner?”  
“Can’t,” Emma sighed, the object of her mission obtained she continued to the door and slipped her shoes on, “Lars is having a business dinner and hopes having me around as eye candy might sweeten his chances.”  
“I’m sure that’s not the only reason.” Antonio sighed, climbing back onto his stool at the breakfast bar.  
“I know,” Emma grinned, winking flirtatiously at the boys, “Well, Ciao!”  
“Ciao!”  
With Emma gone, the atmosphere of the apartment descended into a comfortable silence with Antonio reading his magazine and Feliciano cooking dinner. The apartment they shared was small, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining-slash-living area, and a kitchenette all crammed together. It was also new, Antonio having bought it recently with Feliciano declaring his independence from his family out of nowhere and storming out of the house one day over the summer with nowhere to go but Antonio’s one room apartment. With his refusal to return to his parents’ home becoming more and more adamant as the summer died, a move was deemed necessary and together the two found the apartment together.  
Feliciano refused to talk about why he’d left home so suddenly, and Antonio couldn’t seem to pry any information out of his mother or father either the few times he’d tried to talk to them.  
So now they shared the apartment together, with Antonio footing most of the bills while Feliciano supplied where he could from the part-time job he took up after school. It wasn’t much, but Antonio declared education more important anyway and ruthlessly shot down Feliciano’s one attempt at quitting school for a full time job.  
“You think the food at the restaurant is any better than mine?” Feliciano asked out of the blue as he pulled a lasagna out of the oven.  
“Huh?” Antonio answered unintelligently, roused from his reading.  
“The food there, do you think Emma would have liked it better?”  
“Jealous?” Antonio snickered, knowing it wasn’t possible. Both he and Feliciano were raging homosexuals-not for each other of course.  
“Of the food!” Feliciano cried, corner of his mouth turning upwards, “What if she has one bite and decides she’ll refuse all home cooked meals afterward?”  
“She will become very fat and very artery clogged and deserve both.” Antonio laughed, accepting the plate of food from his roommate as Feliciano sat down at the other stool beside him.  
“I guess… better not tell her we said that.” Feliciano grinned.  
“Wasn’t planning on it.” Antonio muttered before shoving his fork in his mouth.  
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As the school bell rang for maybe the third time after school let out, signaling to everyone that they really needed to get their butt out the doors, Peter tugged a bit harder on Wendy’s arm. She cried out for him to stop but he ignored her, dragging her further down the street towards home.  
He was already in a bad mood, he didn’t need Wendy’s whining to make it worse. He’d woken up late, they’d nearly missed the bus, and by the time he realized he’d forgotten his homework it was to late and he had to take the public scolding from his stuffy old teacher. Then, to make matters worse, he’d been barred from going outside for recess and instead spent it sitting at his desk staring out the window as his friends enjoyed the nice sunny day, which hadn’t stayed nice and sunny for him, without him.  
Now the sky was an ashen gray color, clouds rolling and thundering, threatening rain and there was no one to pick them up. Their mom probably forgot, or forgot to tell Katya.  
It wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to get caught in the rain, and he didn’t want to listen to Wendy’s shrieking when they were either.  
But alas, the first drops of rain began to fall and Wendy began to whine again. Peter would have done just about anything to get her to stop, including hit her in the mouth in the hopes his fist could keep her quiet.  
Then a car pulled up alongside them, the window rolling down and an older, scruffy looking guy smiling out at them.  
“Hey, what are you doing in the rain?” He asked, “And for that matter, why didn’t you stay at the school?”  
“Our mom wasn’t there to pick us up, so we started to walk.” Wendy pouted.  
“Well that’s too bad,” The man sighed, leaning out the window to offer Peter his hand, “See, she sent us to pick you up. If you’d stayed at the school you wouldn’t have had to walk all this way.”  
“Really?” Peter asked dryly, regarding the offered hand with a look of distain.  
“Yeah kid,” The driver, some blonde guy with a mean looking face, said, “Get in and we can take you home.”  
“I think we’re fine.” Peter said, “Thanks.”  
“But Peter!” Wendy cried, “It’s raining!”  
“We’re fine.” Peter repeated, beginning to tug her down the street again. Wendy began to put up more of a fight, but Peter was older and stronger so he naturally was able to force her along.  
“Peter, come on.” The scruffy guy moaned, the car slowly following them.  
“Leave us alone!” Peter shouted, stomach twisting as he realized there wasn’t anyone nearby outside. What could he do? Maybe he could walk up to a random house… but then again, maybe that would be just as dangerous. He could hurry home, but what if his mom or Katya weren’t home? Or what if they were? Would these guys try to hurt them? Just how bad were they? They looked like they could hurt someone rather easily.  
“Peter, please!” The scruffy man begged from the car, “Stop playing around and let’s go!”  
Peter rolled his eyes, gripping his sister’s hand tight and now breaking into a run down the street. Wendy, seeming to sense the looming danger finally, held tight to his hand and her bag, pulling ahead of him as they ran. The car sped up, easily keeping pace with them as the scruffy guy begged them to get into the car.  
“Leave us alone!” Wendy finally screamed at the top of her lungs and Peter heard the other man in the car say something but couldn’t decipher it before they were turning the corner and running as hard as they could.  
It mattered not when the scruffy guy dashed out the door of the car at the corner and gave chase. Wendy’s shriek alerted Peter to the fact the man was closing in on them and though they tried to run to a nearby house he had them in his arms before they could even step onto the lawn.  
The car pulled up alongside them, Wendy and Peter screaming and kicking but unable to break free, and the man tossed them into the open trunk of the car.  
“Their bags!” Peter heard his accomplice yell and he was nearly hit in the face with Wendy’s school bag.  
“Help!” Wendy screamed as the trunk door slammed down, plunging them into darkness. The car began driving and for several seconds the two were to stunned and scared to do anything but ride in silence before they began kicking at their confines and screaming even louder. The car didn’t stop however, and instead it seemed the vehicle actually sped up.  
When their throats grew raw and their limbs grew tired, Peter and Wendy lay quietly in the trunk of the car, Wendy silently crying beside her brother. Peter reached out and found her hand, gripping it tightly as they were taken to who knew where.  
“What’s gonna happen to us?” Wendy whimpered.  
“I don’t know…” Peter admitted, “But we’ll be fine as long as we stick together, alright?”  
“Alright.” Wendy sniffled, turning on her side in the small space and hugging her brother’s arm-something she hadn’t done since she was six.  
The next time they saw daylight it was sunset, and they were staring up at the scruffy man and his long haired blonde friend who leered down at the two of them.  
“Up you go!” The scruffy man said, sounding excited, and he lifted them into the air and began carrying them towards a large house. The lights were on in several of the rooms, loud music blasting through the walls.  
“Sounds like business is b-“  
“Finish that sentence and I will end you.” The blonde man snapped, opening the door to what Peter would call a house party. Music blasted, lights flashed, and several people were either dancing or crowded together in the rooms and halls.  
The scruffy man carried the two of them through the house, receiving amused looks from many of the people there who Peter noticed where mainly older men and women who had dressed like his mother would for important parties or business meetings.  
Into the kitchen, food covered the counters along with several abandoned red cups. Peter heard the blonde man make a comment about the mess before he was unlocking the door to the basement and the scruffy man carried them inside.  
Down there it was nothing like above, still and somehow eerily quiet even with the loud music following them from upstairs. A single light bulb hung from the low ceiling, revealing nothing but a bucket with a lid on top in the corner and a single dirty mattress laying on the floor.  
“Night kids,” The scruffy man said, dropping the two of them onto the mattress and raising a cloud of dust. The moment they were released the two immediately scrambled for the door, but they were kicked back by the blonde man who quickly ascended the stairs. He was followed by the scruffy man and the two were gone and the door locked before Peter had even recovered his breath.  
Wendy beat against the door with her small fist, screaming for help for what seemed like hours before she’d finally join Peter at the bottom of the stairs, slumping over in defeat. She began to cry again, and this time Peter could think of nothing to comfort her besides pulling her close in a bid to also comfort himself.  
The music would eventually die down and fade into nothingness, taking with it the only sign of life the two had for a good while. Peter found this more than disturbing, as thoughts of them starving down here began to fill his mind. He sat in silence, Wendy having eventually drifted off to sleep, and thought through the different horrific scenarios of them being forgotten down here to die before the door made sounds of being unlocked.  
Peter turned to see, moving quickly enough he easily jarred Wendy from her sleep. She turned to start yelling at him, but stopped upon seeing the door open.  
“Don’t move…” A soft voice floated down to them, “I’m coming down there okay?”  
Appearing at the top of the stairs was an older boy with long blonde hair and a pair of round glasses. He was dressed in nothing but a gray tank top and a pair of gray boxer shorts and holding a tray. Behind him stood a man with gray hair and a gray moustache, eyeing Peter and Wendy darkly.  
The man leaned forward, whispering into the blonde boy’s ear. The blonde boy nodded and turned to look at Peter and Wendy.  
“Go sit on the mattress,” He said softly. When the two didn’t move the man grabbed the blonde kid’s arm and began to pull him back.  
At the thought of being left alone again, Peter and Wendy scrambled towards the mattress and the moment their butts made contact with the material the man pushed the blonde boy forward, nearly sending him tumbling down the stairs.  
The boy descended the stairs, setting the tray down on the floor where Peter saw it was loaded with two plates covered in small amounts of food. The boy turned back to look at the gray man but the door had closed behind him, and they all listened as the lock turned.  
Nothing else to do, the boy sat down on the bottom step and waved the two of them forward.  
“It’s okay, I won’t bite.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around his torso and leaning forward towards his knees.  
“Who are you?” Peter asked from the mattress, reaching back to grip his sister’s hand as she watched from over his shoulder.  
“You can call me Mattie.”


	10. Chapter 10

Whenever there was a misdemeanor that was not worthy of a “training session” with one of their “illustrious” caretakers, there was the closet.  
It was always the smallest, usually the scuzziest, closet in the house. It was always dark, it was quiet, and there was no telling when you would be let out. You could sit there in the dark for hours, thinking about what you did and why you deserved to be locked away in the dark away from the others and any possible chances at redemption.  
They wouldn’t let you out early for any reason, not for food, not for a client, not even to use the bathroom. Sometimes, if you were stuck in there long enough, they forgot you were even there and it was up to one of the others because to make a sound in the closet, even to remind the world you were still there, was punishable by an extended sentence.  
Lovino remembered he’d been stuck in there so long once that light had been painful and he could barely walk. His throat had been dryer than a desert and his head had hurt so badly he’d been brought to tears by the slightest noise. He’d also been rather humiliated, having been forced to… let go… in the closet when his cries for the bathroom had been ignored. Needless to say, it had been one of the last times he’d truly caused trouble for Grandpa and the others.  
Ludwig seemed to be in a similar situation. It had been a whole day now and he was still locked away in the closet underneath the stairs. He’d screamed earlier when it had seemed the boy had had enough and begun beating against the door, but Gerhalt had simply dragged the couch in front of the door and then lay down, exhausted from last night.  
Speaking of last night, Lovino turned to see the two newbies sitting huddled together at the kitchen table, their food untouched. He’d seen Grandpa carrying them in and towards the basement but not much after that. Mattie had been chosen to deliver them dinner, and come back reporting they were scared but the boy seemed alright-the girl had hardly spoken except to beg to be let go.  
“Hey,” Lovino hissed, leaning across the table to whisper. The two jumped, and the boy pulled his sister closer.  
“It’s not poisoned or anything,” Lovino continued, reaching out to snatch a muffin from the boy’s plate and took a bite, “They’re not going to get much out of you dead.”  
“Yet.” Ivan added unhelpfully from his seat. He’d awoken moody and it didn’t help that their breakfast was being overseen-or should have been-by Gerhalt’s reproachful eyes.  
The girl began to whimper and Lovino sighed, replacing a muffin from his own plate onto the boy’s and turning to face them fully, smiling softly.  
“Hey, don’t cry okay?” He said softly, “It’s alright.”  
“How?” The boy hissed angrily, chancing a glance in the sleeping Gerhalt’s direction, “How is it possibly alright?”  
“Well, you’re not dead.” Lovino said.  
“Yet.”  
“Ivan!”  
“Sorry…” Ivan snickered, receiving a kick to the shin under the table from Lovino.  
“Look,” The teenager sighed, turning back to the kids, “I know you’re scared, and I know you want to go home… but right now you gotta focus on not making him,” He jerked his head in Gerhalt’s direction in time for the man to give a loud snort, “or the other two mad. Otherwise you’ll be joining Ludwig in the closet.”  
“Are they going to let him out?” The girl asked, chewing on her thumbnail.  
“Soon.” Lovino nodded, hoping that was the truth, “And if you guys aren’t careful you’ll be taking his place.”  
That sent the two whimpering again and Lovino sighed in frustration.  
“All I’m saying is,” He said, “Do what they say, don’t make them mad, and most importantly, don’t cause trouble. These guys… they’re serious…”  
He could almost feel the General’s belt buckle cracking against his back, the metal ripping his flesh and the leather screaming in the air alongside him.  
“… They don’t mess around, especially Gerhalt and the General.”  
“What kind of a name is that?” The boy asked snidely.  
“Their names…” Lovino said, “What they go by… they don’t tell anyone their real names-not even each other.”  
“That’s weird.” The girl whispered.  
“Tell me about it.” Lovino grinned, “Now come on, eat up. You’re gonna need it.”  
“Why?” The boy whimpered.  
“Because growing boys need food, now eat.” Lovino snapped light heartedly, taking a bite of his own food and smiling with his mouth full of chewed mush in a bid to gross them out. It worked, the two of them cringing and turning quickly to their full plates. The boy took a hesitant bite, and when he declared it not only safe to eat but tasty, his sister dug in alongside him. Lovino watched them casually from the corner of his eye, analyzing what they had to work with.  
The boy looked a lot like Ludwig had at ten, blonde hair, blue eyes, and skinny. Ludwig might lose a few clients if Grandpa put him up for business immediately.  
The girl looked almost nothing like him, and Lovino had to wonder if they had different fathers or if the gene pool was wide in their family. Her skin was a shade or two tanner, her brown hair in tight curls that framed large brown eyes and a small pout. They’d never really had a girl around here before, and Lovino had to wonder what Grandpa had been thinking.  
Mattie sat back in his chair, fingering the polar bear toy he’d brought down with him to breakfast this morning. Lovino had thought to call him on it, even to just harmlessly tease, but remembered he’d had a rather mean customer yesterday and kept quiet.  
The boy on the other hand, had other ideas.  
“What’s with the toy?” He frowned, reaching out to touch the bear with his finger.  
Mattie recoiled instantly, pulling… Kuma?... pulling it towards his chest.  
“Nothing…” Mattie whispered, staring hard at the table top.  
“Aren’t you a little big for toys?”  
“No…”  
“Katya would say you are.”  
Ivan dropped his fork, making a loud clatter against the plate, everyone turning to stare at him as he in turn stared at the boy.  
“W… who?” He asked, frowning, “Who would say that?”  
“My maid.” The boy said, “Her name’s Katya.”  
“What does she look like?” Ivan whispered, a manic look growing in his eyes.  
“She’s blonde.” The boy said simply, “She has a big chest.”  
“Peter!” The girl hissed, swatting at her brother’s arm, “That’s rude!”  
“Why? He asked!” Peter cried, looking confused.  
“Ivan?” Lovino frowned, watching Ivan as he sat back, covering his mouth with his hands and eyes wide, “Ivan are you okay?”  
“My sister…” Ivan whispered, “They have to be talking about my sister!”  
“Sister?” Mattie whispered.  
“I have a sister… two sisters…” Ivan mumbled, looking heartbroken, “I got separated from them… and then I came here.”  
“Grandpa and Gerry took you from them?” Peter asked.  
“Sorta?” Ivan shrugged, even though Lovino knew that was a lie. He remembered the drive to the agency to pick Ivan up, remembered him sitting in the car with both he and Ludwig, five at the time and asleep, and watching Ivan look cautiously around what he assumed to be his new home.  
Lovino had wanted to open the car and throw Ivan out, but thinking about what the General would do if he did kept him still and he instead leaned against the window and pretended to be asleep so he wouldn’t have to talk to Ivan on the drive home.  
“I haven’t seen them for a long time… I’d almost forgotten about them.” He sounded near tears and Lovino cringed, wondering if Ivan would allow him to touch his hand.  
“That’s horrible!” The girl exclaimed.  
“Come with us!” Peter said, “We can leave and go find her!”  
“We can’t leave!” Mattie said quickly, “They’d find us…”  
“And we can’t leave Luddy behind.” Ivan nodded towards the silent and locked closet, “Besides… I don’t think she’d want to see me.”  
“What?” Lovino and Peter cried.  
“That’s crazy talk!” The girl snapped.  
“No… no perhaps it’s better I stay here.” Ivan shook his head, reaching up to grip his hair with his fingers, “I don’t want them to be like me… I don’t want them… We can’t leave anyways!”  
Peter looked ready to protest, but at that moment Gerhalt made a particularly loud snort that woke him up and he turned to scowl at the kids, perhaps blaming them. The table lapsed into silence for the rest of the meal and then Ivan and Mattie retreated to their room, leaving Lovino with the new kids and Gerhalt.  
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Peter had come to a conclusion in the short time he’d been in this place and awake.  
These people were crazy! Most were scary crazy, like that guy the General and Gerhalt. Even that Ivan kid seemed a bit eerie, considering how he’d shut down after hearing about Katya. When Gerhalt had decided he and Wendy had finished eating it was back to the basement for them, where Wendy plopped down onto the mattress with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.  
“I hate it here.” She whined for the millionth time.  
“So do I,” Peter sighed, sitting on the bottom stair, “And I hate those guys.”  
“Let’s leave!” Wendy insisted.  
“And go where? We don’t know where we are.”  
“We’ll find a police man!” Wendy cried, “Mommy and Katya said we could trust them!”  
“Then how do we get out?” Peter sighed, having tried to think of a way out and not seeing one. Every door and window was locked and they were watched closely.  
“Well…” Wendy twisted her lips around, “We could… we’ll just have to run, won’t we? At our first chance?”  
“At our first chance.” Peter nodded.


	11. Chapter 11

Katya had been in and out of police stations several times, although it had never been for anything more than to pick up her little sister after one of her wild nights of parties and “harmless pranks”. She’d rarely been beyond the front area, where people sat waiting and several officer’s desks sat in rows much like a classroom. She’d sat in the chair to the side of Officer Adnan’s desk several times, listen to him lecture both herself and Natalya on the dangers of her lifestyle choices before Katya would graciously thank him for bringing her sister in safe and that would be the end of every other Friday night, Natalya retreating to her room afterwards for the next several days to sulk.  
Today however, was different. Yes, Katya sat in the chair beside Officer Adnan’s desk, but instead she sat alone, holding the officer’s hand as his partner sat beside him with a pen and pad of paper to take notes with. Natalya was for once waiting in the plush chairs of the waiting area and not one of the holding cells, scribbling in a notebook with her music blasting into her ears.  
Tearfully, she recounted the day before, telling them about her arrival to the house and how she helped get Peter and Wendy Micnat ready for school before their bus arrived and that was the last she saw of them. Had she known they’d need a ride home from school, she would have been there with the safety found in her beat up car ready to take them home, but Mrs. Micnat had instead asked her to go to the store to pick up ingredients needed for the family dinner that night.  
When she’d arrived back at the house, well over an hour after Peter and Wendy should have been home, she found it odd the house was empty. Calling Mrs. Micnat resulted both of the women entering a panic as one peeled off from her running group to run home and the other dashed back out of the house, groceries forgotten on the floor, to start searching. Night fell and nothing resulted in the search, despite police being called and neighbors recruited in the search.  
Katya hadn’t been able to face Mrs. Micnat that night, and so with the broken woman’s dismissal to go home for the night she fled to her apartment, bursting into tears before Natalya could even grunt hello.  
“Thank you Miss Braginsky,” Officer Adnan, a very darkly tanned man of large build smiled kindly, giving Katya’s hand a squeeze before turning to his partner, “Did you get everything?”  
“I hope so.” His partner muttered, rubbing an eye and receiving a kick to his shin from Adnan.  
Katya sighed, gripping her purse where it sat in her lap and looking back at where Natalya was. Natalya had been oddly docile since hearing news of the kid’s disappearance. She’d been six when their brother had been separated from them, and Katya seemed to remember Natalya had taken it rather hard-possibly harder than Katya herself. Katya had lost a charge, someone to take care of. Natalya had lost a protector, the boy who would fend off the bullies on the playground and the monsters under her bed. Katya often wondered if her wild behavior now had anything to do with the loss of Ivan, and whenever Natalya brought home a blonde, strong boy with a kind smile and a protective streak she seemed almost certain of it.  
“Miss Braginsky?” Officer Adnan recaptured her attention with another squeeze of his hand, “Miss Braginsky, I know we’ve already asked so much of you, but I want to ask you to stick around for when the Detective assigned to the case gets in.”  
“Why?” Katya heard herself ask, voice soft and hollow.  
“Well,” Officer Adnan sighed, “He probably has a few more questions. We just asked the preliminary ones, he’s going to ask a few more that could be important to the case.”  
“Ah… how… how long will that take?” Katya wondered. It was a Tuesday after all, and Natalya had school.  
“Not very long,” Officer Karpusi smiled, “He usually shows his face around nine.”  
“Nine?” Katya frowned, “My sister has school at eight-thirty.”  
“I’m sure the school will be understanding,” Officer Adnan said.  
“I’m sorry officers,” Katya said, getting up and holstering her bag onto her shoulder, “But Natalya’s future is to important, she’s the best chance this family’s got in getting out of the mud.”  
“Katya,” Officer Adnan sighed, but didn’t get much farther.  
“I promise, I’ll come straight back,” She smiled, “You know me Sadik, please?”  
“Well…” Officer Adnan sighed, tapping a finger against his lip.  
“Saidk!” Officer Karpusi hissed, “No!”  
“Come on man, give her a break-we don’t need to make things any harder for her, do we?” Officer Adnan finally said, giving Katya a warm smile, “Just try to hurry, alright? It’s almost eight now.”  
“Thank you!” Katya said, turning quickly and making her way towards her sister, spiriting the both of them towards her car and onto the road where the school lay ahead, waiting.  
~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~  
Detective Yao didn’t have the patience for anything this morning. After dropping Kiku off at school he nearly got into three accidents trying to get out of the parking lot-not all of them at the fault of other drivers.  
The roads seemed more packed than usual that morning as well, and after being stopped for the third time in a row at a long line of cars he groaned before sitting back with his coffee mug in one hand and the files for the newest case he’d been assigned in the other. Most of it had been faxed to him late in the night, and he had to wonder if there’d been some sort of secret meeting where the others drew lots on who would be in charge of this case because that’s what it certainly felt like, how else would he be the one saddled with this?  
Yao hated cases involving young kids. From babies to toddlers to middle schoolers he hated anything involving someone under the age of twenty. It broke his heart to see small children distressed, and any satisfaction he should have gained from solving the case and “saving” the kids was extinguished with the worry of what was next for them. The idea they’d be swallowed up by the well-meaning foster system, or end up in a worse situation once placed in a home plagued him for nights on end after ending cases involving kids.  
For this reason, at one point the idea became to much to bear after ending a rather disturbing case and so his name was the first on the list when it came time to find a home for his now son, Kiku Honda.  
It had been five years now and personally, Yao couldn’t be happier. There were a few rocky moments sure, but he simply assumed that just came with being a parent. Kiku was happy, and therefore Yao was happy.  
Except for this morning, as he glanced over papers detailing the events of yesterday; how two children ages ten and eight went missing on their way home from school. The housekeeper and the mother had been out, and Yao silently cursed the both of them for allowing something so important as a child to slip through their grasp.  
The kids, Peter and Wendy, didn’t look much like siblings. They shared the same eyebrows and basic facial structure, their large eyes different colors but the same shape, and Yao wasn’t at all surprised to learn the two had different fathers when he dug further into the papers he’d been sent. The details of their parentage after that, however, were vague. It looked like neither father had been in the picture much (or at all in Peter Micnat’s case) and he wondered if they’d even be contacting them.  
Arriving at the station late and already more than a little on edge, Yao nearly bowled over a blonde woman wearing a worn coat and sprinting herself towards the station front door. When the two nearly collided she went red from embarrassment and stepped back to allow him to pass, to which he nodded stiffly, in no mood to socialize, and headed towards the door, thinking at the last second to hold it open for the woman.  
Inside, Yao spotted Officer’s Adnan and Karpusi hissing at each other in hushed tones, no doubt in the midst of another petty fight. He had to wonder what the idea had been to pair the two together, they obviously didn’t like each other and when they fought bad enough, their work could end up affected (it had only happened once and in the minorest of ways, but Yao had been wary of their partnership ever since). The two looked up as he approached, and their faces immeadiatly brightened when they slipped to gaze behind him.  
Turning, the woman had followed him all the way to Officer Adnan’s desk and was standing there, her fingers worrying at the strap of her purse.  
“Can I help you ma’am?” He asked, frowning.  
“This is Katya Braginsky, the housekeeper for Mrs. Micnat.” Officer Adnan said, standing up so he was above eye level with Yao.  
“Ah,” Yao nodded, “Wonderful.” He swallowed, realizing he hadn’t been all that mentally prepared to deal with things straight into the door but here he was. He pointed to the door labeled with his name along the glass window, “If you could just take a seat in my office, I’ll be with you shortly.”  
“Of course.” The woman nodded, ducking her head and scurrying away. It was at that moment Yao realized he’d seen the woman around the station before and he frowned in thought as he watched her seat herself inside his office.  
“Her sister’s one of the party cell’s regulars,” Officer Adnan supplied after a moment, “She’s in here almost every other weekend to take her home-post bail if her sister got crazy enough.”  
“What a coincidence.” Yao sighed, taking a long gulp from his coffee mug and turning to the two, “Anything else I need before starting my investigation? Did you move all the files I asked for into my office?”  
“First thing we did,” Officer Karpusi said, giving a long yawn, “Had to skip coffee and head straight here to do it too.”  
“So sorry,” Yao said sarcastically, “Thanks anyway-and take your pills Karpusi!”  
“I do!”  
Katya Braginsky was tense when Yao entered the office, jumping at his presence before forcing herself to sit back in the chair and clasp her hands together in her lap. Her foot twitched ever so often, hitting her bag which had been shoved underneath the chair.  
“Miss Braginsky,” Yao said as he fell into his chair, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back before opening his files again, “Last night you told officers at the scene you’d been at the store at the time of the abduction.”  
“And you have evidence to correlate that?”  
“There’s security cameras all around the store I was at. I’m also familiar with the cashier who handled my groceries yesterday-he can vouch for me.”  
“Very well then,” Yao nodded, turning back to his papers, “It says here you’ve been in the service of the Micnats for a long time now, almost five years if what I’m reading here is correct?”  
“Yes,” Katya nodded.  
“What did you do before that?”  
“I was… unemployed.” Katya swallowed, “This job is the first one I’ve held.”  
“It says here you were a part of the system with your sister and brother as well,” Yao continued, not missing the uncomfortable look that crossed Katya’s face at the mention of her family, “Your brother was sent to live in a boy’s home, correct?”  
“Before running away, I know.” Katya said quickly, an edge to her voice, “It’s been me and my sister ever since.”  
“Yes, it has,” Yao nodded, noticing a short page on Natalya Braginsky had been included, “She’s a bit of a party girl I see-oh but her grades! I can say I’m surprised, I don’t see that many wild children with straight a’s in most of their classes.”  
“Natalya’s not… wild, per se,” Katya said, voice small, “Just free spirited.”  
“Well, let’s hope it’s not a bit to free, alright?” Yao turned to the reports of yesterday again, skimming over the pages with his finger before stopping on a particular paragraph, “It says here you acted as both nanny and housekeeper for Mrs. Micnat, you’d take care of them whenever she was called away on business?”  
“Yes…” Katya nodded, fingers tightening around each other.  
“But it wasn’t part of your duties or schedule to pick Peter and Wendy up from school?”  
“No, they could walk home on their own if they had to, they’ve done it before.” Katya said, “If it was going to rain like it did yesterday then their mother would get them. Otherwise they’d walk home together and about then I’d probably be finished taking care of the garden or something and have a snack waiting.”  
“But yesterday was different?”  
“Mrs. Micnat needed me to go to the store to pick up items for her to make dinner, she had a running group and only remembered halfway into their course.”  
“Have you ever picked them up from school before?” Yao asked.  
“A few times.” Katya admitted, “Yesterday would have been one of them, but I thought she might pick them up considering I was out at the store.”  
“Did you ever see anyone suspicious hanging around the times that you did?”  
“No.” Katya shook her head, “I don’t see much of anyone, they usually run straight for the car when school lets out.”  
Yao nodded, scribbling a few notes into the margins of his papers, “Miss Braginsky, can you think of anyone who might want to do the Micnat family harm?”  
“No,” Katya said again, “The kids are sweethearts and Mrs. Micnat is a very nice woman.”  
“No one related to her job? A business competitor?”  
“I don’t know much about any of that,” Katya said, “She makes it a point to leave her work at her office.”  
“How about a neighbor?”  
“None I can think of.”  
“Anything out of the ordinary yesterday? Or the days leading up to it?”  
Katya sighed, reaching up to rub her fingers into her temples, upsetting her hair and leaving the side bangs to stick out a bit when she lowered them to her lap again. She’d gone very still, swallowing as she thought before fixing Yao with a very dreaded look.  
“There was a car waiting down the street from the house when I got there that morning, I hadn’t seen it before but I didn’t think much of it.” She said, voice growing softer.  
“And was it gone later in the day?”  
“… Yes…” Katya buried her head in her hands, “Oh my gosh yes…”  
“Miss Braginsky,” Yao said, sitting forward, laying an arm across his desk with his open palm facing up, “Miss Braginsky please, you couldn’t have known.”  
“But I should have!” She sniffed, “The thing was to beat up to belong to anyone in the neighborhood, I didn’t think much of it, I figured it might be another housekeeper or something, but it was them wasn’t it?! They were watching the house!”  
“We can’t know for sure,” Yao said soothingly, getting up and skirting around his desk, sitting on the edge of it and taking the woman’s now trembling hands, “We can’t know for sure, alright? But could you describe the car?”  
“Yes,” Katya nodded, wiping at her misty eyes as her tone grew more solid, “Yes, yes I can.”  
“Good,” Yao said, a steely look in his eye, “I’ll be putting an alert out for it.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a side note, I realize Officers Adnan and Karpusi letting Katya leave before Detective Yao could question her is very unrealistic. Think of it as creative license, and do not attempt such in your personal adventures with the police.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains an intense violent scene and rape (though I don’t really go into sexy time detail as I’m not comfortable writing those scenes-it’s mainly just the violence I detail ((lame I know, sorry))). Readers are advised to read at their own discretion.

For some reason, the majority of the community that actually lived near the lake and not just part time decided the best thing to do since the summer season refused to die was to embrace it. A barbecue had been planned for the residents, taking place well after school had ended and people had a chance to get home and shower the day’s toils away.  
Mattie sat against the trunk of a large tree, an open can of grape soda in one hand and a can of orange in the other. He was currently trying to persuade Ludwig to take the ice cold can from him, but it seemed being free from the Closet for a day now had not improved his mood.  
“You’ll feel better, I promise.” Mattie sighed, doing his best not to shake the can as he tried to shove it towards Ludwig.  
“I don’t want anything!” Ludwig groaned, knees drawn against his chest, “My stomach hurts to much! I’ll throw up again!”  
“You have to eat something, otherwise you’ll just puke up stomach acid! And that hurts a lot worse!” Mattie cried, yet his voice was still soft. He’d always been soft spoken, and usually it did him a disservice, like now, by softening the impact of his words.  
Ludwig shook his head stubbornly, drawing his knees in tighter and resting his chin on them. When he’d been released yesterday, early in the morning just after the rest of them had sat down to breakfast, he’d been a mess. Sick, humiliated, and in bad need of a long, hot shower, Ludwig had kept to himself all yesterday and most of today. Uncharacteristically charitable, both the General and Gerhalt had allowed Ludwig to stay in Grandpa’s room where he’d slept most of the day with Grandpa looking over him. The others had been worried last night when he didn’t leave the room to sleep in their room, and even Ivan’s ice cold mask had cracked a smidge when they saw him sitting at breakfast this morning. He didn’t eat anything, he’d refused to eat most anything all day, but he’d smiled wearily at them and welcomed Peter and Wendy to the table when Gerhalt dragged them up from the basement.  
That was another thing, Peter and Wendy were still locked in the basement most of the day. They’d tried screaming their throats raw yesterday, only amusing the few clients that came through, one even asking what kind of party was going on down there, before Gerhalt had had enough and disappeared down the stairs and effectively shut them up-they’d both come up to dinner with bruises around their cheeks and a rather bad hand-shaped bruise around Wendy’s neck. Mattie tried not to look, the sight dredging up his own memories of failed escape attempts when he’d been younger and the ugly bruises that blossomed along his body for his troubles. When Peter had winced when he sat down, saying Gerhalt had taken to spanking him after Peter had kicked him, Mattie had burrowed his attention into his bear for the rest of the meal, remembering the time he’d been kicked around by Gerhalt so hard he’d coughed blood for several days.  
And Peter and Wendy’s begging to escape was becoming a problem, because if they said the wrong thing at the wrong time or to loudly it could mean everyone would be punished. It had happened before, and Mattie remembered with a cringe it had been his fault. He’d begun crying to Lovino they should just run, even going so far as to tell how to do it without getting caught and managed to land the both of them in separate closets for days, sessions with the General and Gerhalt right after their release. Lovino had refused to even look at him for a week afterwards, and Ivan had been even colder than usual towards him. Mattie worried what might happen this time, two new kids meant twice the chance for trouble and Mattie did not consider luck to be on his side most of the time.  
“Look, just drink this and eat a hot dog, okay? You’ll probably even feel a bit better with food in your stomach.” Mattie begged, setting the can down, “I’ll go grab you something, okay?”  
Ludwig scowled in his direction but didn’t offer any argument.  
Mattie cast a cautious glance in Gerhalt’s direction, where he sat on one of the park benches watching the crowd. Their eyes met for a moment, and when Gerhalt could see Mattie’s destination was the food table he continued to watch. Mattie did his best to ignore it, concentrating on procuring hot dogs for both Ludwig and himself, snatching a bag of chips on his way back to the tree as well.  
“Well, where do you think you’re going?”  
Before Mattie had a chance to search out the voice, he was grabbed by the wrist and spun to face a client he’d had a few days ago.  
Black hair slicked back and only adding to the greasy impression of a mobster, this man eyed Mattie from behind dark shades, his jacket slung over a shoulder and his top shirt buttons popped open to show off a glittering gold chain and the hairy top of his chest. He held a cigarette between his teeth, and he sneered as he looked Mattie over.  
“Hello Blondie.” He smiled, reaching out to fix stray hairs hanging around Mattie’s face.  
Mattie pressed his lips together into a tight line, finding swallowing difficult. Of all the clients he’d had (and cared to remember), this man was on the list as one of the worst. He’d wandered into the house a few days ago during the “Welcome Party” Grandpa had thrown (the day Peter and Wendy had shown up unexpectedly-or at least, unexpectedly for Mattie). After giving both Ivan and Lovino a good look over, his hands had gripped themselves around Mattie’s upper arms and bruised them throughout the night. All the while he’d whisper insulting compliments into Mattie’s ear, vulgar talk that made Mattie squirm gaining dark chuckles.  
“I didn’t think you’re masters would let you out, especially with so many people around,” The man continued, drawing Mattie close to his side, “What if something were to happen?”  
Acting without thinking, Mattie tried to twist away and the food he was carrying tumbled out of his hands and onto the grass.  
“Aww, that’s to bad.” The man sighed, crouching beside him, “Hey, if you’re good I’ll get you another.”  
“Please don’t.” Mattie hissed, trying to back away as the man reached for the hem of his shirt. They were in public, where anyone could see them. Even Grandpa knew that to not be a decent way to conduct business and the last time any of them had tried to initiate it with a client (it was a legend Gerhalt liked to whisper of during training sessions; one of Lovino’s last hairebrained attempts at escape), they’d been stuck in the closet so long that walking had been difficult and light burned their eyes.  
The man’s grip tightened, a dark scowl crossing his face, “You think you can say no to me?” He began dragging Mattie towards the park bathrooms, his grip nearly snapping his arm like a twig. Mattie tried to writhe and pull himself away without making a scene, the last thing he needed was to make a scene, but nothing he did helped loosen the hold on him.  
They were just approaching the doorway when Gerhalt’s imposing shadow crept across them, a dark scowl on his face when the two turned around.  
“You lookin’ to get a free sample or something?” He asked, voice low.  
“I would have paid you later,” The man grinned sheepishly, pulling Mattie into his chest and combing his hair with rough fingers, “This one’s my favorite.”  
“That’s beautiful,” Gerhalt snapped sarcastically, “Now take him back, business hours are over.”  
“Oh come on,” The man groaned, “You can’t just say no! I’m willing to pay.”  
“Sorry buddy,” Gerhalt growled, reaching forward and yanking Mattie away, “We’re not operating right now-don’t want to attract the wrong sort of attention.”  
“Buddy,” The man spat, “Half the neighborhood already knows what goes on in your house, and trust me no one’s saying anything.”  
“Even so, no need to tempt fate. Come by tomorrow.”  
“What’s going on?” Mattie turned to see Grandpa and the General approaching, a beer in their hands and food in the other. Lovino was following after them, frowning at the scene before him.  
“Mattie’s trying to make a little profit on the side.” Gerhalt snickered, shoving Mattie towards his coworkers. Grandpa awkwardly caught him, nearly dropping his beer.  
“Is that so?” Grandpa frowned, “Blondie, we haven’t even cleaned the Closet out yet, you really wanna go in there?”  
“No!” Mattie blurted, “I wasn’t trying anything!”  
“But Gerhalt says you were.”  
Mattie cringed, knowing claiming Gerhalt was lying, which he was, wouldn’t help him in the slightest. He knew where he stood with these guys and who they were likely to believe.  
“I wasn’t trying anything,” He said again, this time softer, “I… I was trying to tell him I wasn’t allowed-“  
“By following him in the bathroom?” Gerhalt raised an eyebrow.  
Mattie felt like crying.  
“Look,” The man finally said, “If the issue is money, I’m completely willing to pay. I’ll do it right now even if you want.”  
“The issue Mr. Jameson is that Blondie here needs to learn his place.” Grandpa said, sounding like a disappointed parent instead of a sadistic pimp, “I can’t let him do anything if I can’t trust he’s not going to follow the rules.”  
“Oh come on!” The man groaned, “I’ll be quick, I promise-are you even listening?”  
Lovino had slowly approached Grandpa, leaning up to his ear and whispering quickly. Grandpa, distracted, had looked away from the now affronted looking man as he nodded once or twice. Mattie watched as his anxiety slowly began to build. What was Lovino doing?!  
“My… charge,” Grandpa said after Lovino pulled away, stepping behind Grandpa and tugging Mattie towards him, “Has just had an interesting idea.”  
Mattie stared up at Lovino; what had he done?  
“Why not come by later?” Grandpa suggested, “We’re supposed to be closed but if you’re that desperate for another taste, I see no reason why we can’t make an exception for a special customer such as yourself-it’d be full price though.”  
“Lovi!” Mattie hissed, eyes wide. Lovino didn’t look at him, instead he was slowly backing the two of them away from the adults, stepping every twenty seconds and only a few inches, but by the time the man finished considering all his options they were near the corner of the restrooms and completely able to slip out of sight.  
“Lovi!” Mattie hissed again, “Lovino no!”  
“Stop it!” Lovino snapped, pressing Mattie to the wall, “You know that’s not the angle I was going for, that’s just the way Grandpa twisted my words. I actually said he should come by tomorrow for a group session-then Ivan and I could deal with him.”  
“He hits me!” Mattie blurted, beginning to panic at the thought of what was going to happen later, “He’s the worst!”  
“You’re just gonna have to deal Mattie,” Lovino sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s not like we haven’t had clients like that before-remember the one who liked choking Ludwig?”  
“I know but…” Mattie whimpered, feeling at a loss for what to say. Lovino was right, this was nothing new so Mattie shouldn’t be whining so badly, he just hated pain.  
Lovino sighed, for a moment he looked impossibly tired and Mattie felt bad for causing him stress. Then he pulled the blonde boy into his chest and leaned his head against Mattie’s.  
“I’m sorry,” He muttered into Mattie’s hair, “But we’ll be waiting on the other side okay?” He didn’t wait for Mattie to respond and instead pulled away, taking Mattie’s hand and leading him back towards the tree he’d left Ludwig under, Ivan now sitting beside him and the both more staring at than eating the food Lovino had forced into their hands. There were two more helpings, one for Lovino and one for Mattie, who happily sat beside the others and nibbled at his meal, stomach twisting in thoughts of what was coming tonight.  
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“Ready?” Peter asked.  
Wendy tightened her grip on the stair railing, “Ready.”  
They’d heard the front door slam a few minutes ago. With any luck someone would be coming to check on the two of them and that’s when the two had decided to attempt escape. It was a rather desperate attempt, but it was the best they could think of at the moment.  
Just as they’d hoped, the doorknob began to turn and seconds later the door swung open. Not bothering to look at who stood there, the two of them tore up the stairs and rushed whoever had opened the door, taking advantage of his surprise and bowling past. They turned right, heading for the backdoor but they only managed to get as far as the dining table when Wendy’s side exploded in pain and she found her face pressed against a place mat. She could hear Peter beside her, his face probably mashed against the table top as his screams and protests came out garbled and half muffled.  
“You two idiots need a few lessons in common sense,” They heard Gerhalt snarl from above.  
“What’s going on?” Grandpa asked from behind.  
“These two just tried to make a break for it.”  
“Ah,” Wendy heard Grandpa sigh, “That’s to bad, now we gotta punish them.”  
Wendy swallowed the first stabs of fear, reminding herself it was just a closet. Peter had been playing tricks on her for as long as she could remember, one of which had been to lock her in the cupboard under the stairs for two hours (although he claimed it was an accident).  
Wendy watched out of the corner of her eye as Grandpa took a seat at the table, leaning forward and staring at the two of them, making eye contact with her before she quickly looked away.  
“Well, let them sit down,” Grandpa said, “No sense pining them there all night.”  
To the relief of Wendy’s neck, she was released from her spot against the table, only to be shoved into a seat a second later beside her brother. Grandpa sat across from them, a sad look in his eye, almost like Katya had whenever she had to lecture the two of them.  
“I just don’t get it,” He said, voice gentle and not at all comforting, “I would have thought it’d be obvious.”  
“What?” Peter snapped, receiving a tired and cold look from the auburn haired man.  
“This is your life now,” Grandpa said, poking the table with his finger, “Mattie, Lovi, Ivan, and Luddy? Your brothers. You belong here.”  
“No we don’t!” Wendy cried.  
Grandpa released a bark of laughter, “Oh really? Then why are you here? Why has no one shown up to take you away?”  
Wendy scowled, “Because we’re kidnapped! They have to find us first!”  
“But they never will.” Grandpa said, voice taking a menacing turn, “They won’t even look for you very much longer. You’ll be forgotten, just like the rest of us.”  
“Liar!” Peter screeched only to have Grandpa himself lunge forward and slap him across the face.  
“How dare you talk to me like that,” He said slowly, standing above the two of them now and scowling darkly, “How dare you after I bring you into my home, give you my food, and do my best to be patient with you. You know who does that? Ungrateful children. Brats. Trash. Is that what the two of you are? Trash?”  
Peter was rubbing his cheek, fighting to not let the water building up in his eyes spill over onto his cheeks. Wendy had already lost that battle, the mere thought of Katya and her mother forgetting her in a place like this and Peter’s slap enough to scare her into tears.  
“And now you think crying will evoke sympathy?” Grandpa laughed disbelievingly, looking to Gerhalt behind him, “Were the other four this bad? Are we just to rusty at this?”  
“I seem to remember Lovi needing a little straightening out,” Gerhalt drawled, “What’s say I grab the General?”  
“Oh I don’t know, I don’t think the message is really across yet.” Grandpa said, looking between the two of them, “Besides, what if they’re stupid enough to try something? I don’t want anyone injured before a client can see them.”  
“Well… we could…” Gerhalt trailed off.  
“What?”  
“We could show them.”  
The sentence hung in the air for a moment, then two, then a wide grin broke out across Grandpa’s face.  
“Gerhalt, you’re a genius every once in a while.”  
“I will assume that’s a compliment.” Gerhalt muttered, grabbing Wendy by the upper arm and dragging her out of the kitchen. He opened the door to a bedroom, dragging her inside and sitting her at the desk chair. Peter followed after, dragged by Grandpa. Another chair was quickly dragged in, and when the two of them were seated Gerhalt turned to the dresser, opening one of it’s drawers and reaching inside.  
Instead of pulling out clothing, he withdrew two pairs of handcuffs and handed one to Grandpa. Grandpa was all smiles as he secured Wendy’s arms behind the chair, threading her arms through the openings in the back of the chair so she couldn’t stand up to try and escape. She turned to see the same had been done to Peter, who was struggling against them anyway.  
Grandpa leaned down and pressed their heads together, whispering hotly into Wendy’s ear, “This is your life now, this is what you were put on this earth to do. Now watch and learn you ungrateful brat.”  
There was a commotion outside the room, and as it drew closer Wendy could make out the General’s voice along with a strange man’s. The two burst into the room, the man dragging a terrified looking Mattie behind him as the General leaned against the door. The two stilled upon seeing the four of them, the man even going so far as to pull Mattie closer with a territorial look on his face.  
“Don’t mind us,” Gerhalt smiled, patting Peter’s shoulder roughly, “We thought perhaps you could provide an object lesson for our newest recruits? They seem to need an example to follow.”  
The man’ who’d been scowling in confusion when he entered the room to see them, broke into the brightest grin Wendy had seen from anyone. Beside him, Mattie’s eyes widened and he’d jerked his head, as if to shake “no” before stopping himself and instead looking disgusted.  
“I think the two of us could pull something together,” The man said, leaning down to nuzzle Mattie’s neck.  
“Special discount next time if it’s a show for them to remember.” Grandpa grinned as he and Gerhalt left the room, the General locking it behind them with a barely contained mocking giggle.  
“Well, with that kinda incentive…” The man grinned to himself before turning like a rattle snake striking and pinning Mattie to the bed. Mattie let loose a surprised shriek, the loudest Wendy had ever heard him, and the man laughed loudly. Wendy recoiled into her seat as she watched him rip at Mattie’s clothes, pull his hair, and try to bite or mark every inch of the boy’s exposed skin.  
“What are you doing?” Peter cried, trying to free himself from the chair unsuccessfully, “Stop!”  
The man laughed again, whether it was at Peter’s words or his own enjoyment though was anyone’s guess. Mattie cried out, truly beginning to struggle and earning himself a slap across the face hard enough Wendy winced. The man then pinned both of Mattie’s arms to the mattress with one hand while he began fiddling with the front of his pants with the other. Wendy was at first confused as to why, but after Peter’s eyes widened and she sat watching with her breath frozen in her throat she felt instantly sick.  
The man was not gentle at all, and as he began to abuse Mattie’s body in every way possible the sounds both of them made had Wendy wishing she’d be sick. Peter already looked halfway there, and he squirmed in his seat and turned his head, eyes shut tight. Mattie whimpered, and Wendy thought she heard whispered begging for the man to stop before there was another rough slap that crackled like thunder around the room.  
Wendy was sobbing now, terrified, confused, and sick to her stomach. The man happened to glance back at one point, noticing the two of them in distress and his face lit up as if he were a successful actor in a play. He laughed again, letting it morph into a satisfied groan as he finished rocking against Mattie who was also sobbing. The man pulled away, standing and letting his pants, which had hung loosely around his thighs, fall completely to the floor. He then dragged Mattie by the wrist closer to the kids, who both scrambled away as best they could while still restrained against the chairs.  
“So, you two are their newest little sluts huh?” The man grinned, crouching down so he was eye level, “Still in training?” He reached out to caress Wendy’s cheek.  
“Don’t you touch her!” Peter screamed, face coloring with rage.  
“Oh don’t worry sweetness,” The man said, eyes never leaving Wendy’s, “She’s not my type,” He smiled at him, a wicked look in his eye, “You on the other hand…”  
“No!” Wendy screamed and she aimed a kick at the man’s knee cap. On the floor, Mattie flinched and tried to scramble between the two of them as the man landed on his butt, holding his knee in pain.  
“Stupid brat!” The man snarled, lunging forward with his hand raised. As it came down, it slapped the wrong cheek and Mattie fell from his knees to his side against the carpet, face red and stinging. The man was not appeased, wishing to still cause Wendy pain but as he looked down to Mattie he was met with a steely violet-blue gaze.  
“You paid to use me, so do it.” Mattie snapped, voice quiet and broken but firm.  
The man stood there, looking almost confused for a second before a grin split his face and he leaned down to shove Mattie fully against the floor.  
“You’re right.” He said and Mattie gasped in pain, “Why play with a novice when I can have a fully-trained whore? So glad you thought of that.” His hold on Mattie’s arms looked bone crushing, adorning the boy’s skin with more bruises that began to turn a deep purple, almost black. Mattie was quieter this time, staring straight ahead at the ceiling and his noises quieted to small, pained gasps and hisses. Wendy watched from above, fixing her eyes on Mattie’s face so she couldn’t look anywhere else. As time progressed, she noticed his eyes somehow start to fade and glaze over, like he was slipping from them and retreating to somewhere else.  
The man noticed as well and rocked Mattie’s shoulders so hard he bumped his head against the floor.  
“Hey!” He snapped, “Look at me!”  
Mattie, looking reluctant and scared, did as he was told.  
“Say you like it.” Wendy heard the man demand in a hushed tone. When Mattie didn’t comply fast enough he shook him again, hard enough Mattie’s head bounced against the carpet, “Say you like it!”  
“I like it…” Mattie gasped.  
“Louder!” The man snarled as Mattie’s head met with the floor again.  
“I like it.”  
“I still can’t seem to hear you over Bo Peep’s sniffling!” The man snarled, winding back his fist to slug across Mattie’s face. Mattie lay stunned for a second, processing he’d just been punched, before slowly turning back to look at the man with wide, vacant eyes.  
“I. Like. It.” He said evenly, voice firm.  
The man laughed leaning down to kiss the boy’s forehead before dragging his teeth down the side of his face and neck, “That’s better.”  
For the rest of the time they were forced to watch, Wendy figured the man should have been doing what he did with a mannequin or a life-sized doll. Mattie’s limbs were limp, his body lifeless as he allowed the man to bite, scratch, and dig his nails into every inch of him. They moved positions several times, from the carpet beside a tearful Wendy’s chair to the bed, to against the wall, and ending with the man throwing Mattie against the closet door as he stood by the bed. Mattie slumped to the floor, for the first time moving without being prompted as he brought his limbs in close and guarding his face with his arms. The man somehow found this amusing, and began to kick at him, screaming out obscenities and insults.  
“Whore!” A kick landed in Mattie’s side, “Trash!” Another kick found it’s blow in Mattie’s groin and the boy dry heaved, “Filthy slut!” This one hit his forehead and Mattie’s head snapped back and cracked against the wall so hard the mirror hanging nearby shook. Wendy was trembling across the room, breath mounting into hyperventilating. Peter beside her was curled into the chair, eyes still shut tight.  
Finally, as she watched blood begin to drip from Mattie’s mouth, she felt something inside of her snap.  
“Stop!” She shrieked, “Stop it! You’re gonna kill him!”  
This turned out to be a mistake, as the man froze in his actions, leg already reared back for another kick, and he turned to look at her.  
“So what if I do?” He whispered dangerously and Peter turned, opening his eyes, to watch as the man began approaching them, “What’s it to you?”  
He leaned towards Wendy, his breath assaulting her nostrils, “Are you afraid they’ll send you in his place?”  
Wendy gulped, finding tears begin to fill her vision again.  
“Maybe your brother here?” The man continued, reaching out to brush his fingers across Peter’s cheek as Peter snapped his head out of reach and Wendy felt more tears trickle down her face, “Imagine what I could do to such a small body…”  
“No!” Panicked and wanting it all to stop, Wendy began kicking at the man again, a foot landing dangerously close his groin and sending him stumbling back. Wendy froze there, the meaning of her actions catching up with her too late to be of any use and the man looked down at her with a murderous glint in his eye.  
Before he could do anything however, the door opened and a slow clap was heard.  
Wendy, Peter, and the man all turned to see Grandpa and the General standing in the door, Grandpa looking impressed.  
“Well I must say, that was quite the show Mr. Jameson.” He said, stepping over Mattie’s still body and towards his client, “I’ll be sure to leave a note in the books, you’re to receive quite the discount.” He helped the man to his feet and steadied him before reaching to the floor to retrieve his jacket for him.  
“It was nothing.” Mr. Jameson sniffed, throwing a predatory grin in Mattie’s direction, “Best night of my life actually.”  
“Well you’re certainly welcome back anytime, although I suggest giving poor Blondie here some time to heal his bruises should you want him again.”  
“I’ll remember that,” Mr. Jameson grinned before turning to smile at Wendy, “Fair well sweetie.”  
And just like that he was gone, disappearing through the door of the bedroom like a bad dream. Wendy stared after him, breathing hard as Grandpa knelt down between the chairs and looking between the two of them.  
“Have we learned our lesson?” He asked, his hands trailing along both of their shoulders.  
Wendy burst into tears and tried to move away from the contact.  
Mattie was dragged up the stairs and into the bathroom by Gerhalt, while Wendy and Peter were made to follow after and shoved into a small bedroom where they found the others sitting upon cots. Lovino looked up from his book as they entered, frowning when it wasn’t Mattie who entered. Ivan glanced up from his cot before sighing and turning around and laying down, facing the wall. Wendy and Peter stood awkwardly before them, the door slamming shut and locking behind them.  
“Well don’t just stand there,” Lovino said, patting his sheets and scooting over so the two of them could sit together. Wendy sat down on the cot, Peter sat on the floor, something she was unfortunately grateful for. She didn’t want anyone to touch her, she barely wanted Lovino near her but it was his bed after all.  
“Are you cold?” Lovino asked, resting his book against his knee as Wendy realized she was trembling. She was only able to shake her head, lips locked tight in an attempt to keep from crying anymore. She flinched when Lovino touched her arm.  
“I tried to warn you,” He said softly, looking apologetic, “These guys are serious.”  
Wendy nodded frantically, reaching up to cover her face as more tears welled up. She tried to pull away when Lovino pulled her into a hug, hushing her as she began to whimper and pressing his mouth against her hair.  
“It’s alright,” He whispered, “It’s over. You survived and it’s over, that is all that matters.”  
“But… but he didn’t even touch us!” Wendy whimpered, “He hurt Mattie!”  
Lovino stilled, looking down, “What do you mean hurt?”  
“He… he did things…” Wendy found her words dying, not able to find a way to express how truly horrible witness it had been, “He did things… made him say things… he hit him…”  
“Where is he now?” Lovino asked, his voice a soft and guarded whisper.  
“In the bathroom.”  
“Okay…” Lovino breathed, pulling Wendy into another tight hug, “Okay…” He sounded relieved.  
When Mattie finally reappeared he looked somehow worse than when he’d been in the Room. The bruises had fully blossomed across his arms and legs, the rest hidden beneath a white t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts. He was assisted to his bed, where he flopped ungraciously into his sheets and curled into a small ball, Gerhalt smirking as he walked back through the door and locked it.  
Everyone turned to watch Mattie, who stayed curled up and silent, and slowly Lovino withdrew from Wendy. Silently, he padded across the room towards Mattie’s bed and pressed a hand to his shoulder. Mattie flinched, backing away and into the wall as if burned, and a small whimper came from behind his arms.  
Lovino pushed Mattie into sitting up, perhaps ignoring the look of utter pain that crossed his face as he did so, and pulled his upper half into his lap and leaning down to bury his head into his hair. It took a few seconds, but then Mattie curled around Lovino, whimpers growing louder and his shoulders shaking.  
The room had begun to grow dark, and Wendy watched as Lovino reached down to grope under Mattie’s cot, withdrawing the white polar bear plushie and giving it to Mattie. Mattie pressed it tight to his chest, clinging to the toy like a lifeline and Lovino maneuvered the both of them until they were lying side by side. He wrapped his arms around Mattie, letting him hide away in his chest with the toy bear squished between them.  
Wendy sat up, watching as Mattie twitched every so often and Lovino leaned down to hush his occasional whimper. A faint snoring could be heard through the complete darkness from Ivan’s corner and eventually she spied Peter curl into a ball on the floor. The room drifted into a peaceful quiet around her, a vast contrast to what she’d been sitting in before and she found the quiet just as bad. It allowed her to think, to remember. She didn’t want anyone to touch her, and yet she wanted to run to Peter and hold him tight, try to maybe fool herself into thinking holding him tight could keep them safe.  
Eventually her need for comfort won out over her trauma of not wanting anyone to touch her, especially like he’d touched her, and she leaned down to shake Peter awake. He jumped, and after a moment of waiting for him to calm down Wendy bid him to climb up onto Lovino’s bed. He did so quickly and minutes later the two of them were lying side by side, hands clasped together and drifting to sleep, where Wendy would spend the night running from nightmare after nightmare.


	13. Chapter 13

“Dude?”  
Kiku stood before Alfred in the hallway, blocking his path towards English and looking more than a bit uncomfortable. His hands fidgeted, the fingers curling around themselves as he bit his lip. Alfred was frowning at him, probably worried but then again he wasn’t sure. Ever since he’d stumbled into that dusty bedroom last week Alfred had been a bit… colder. He still greeted Kiku and smiled, talked to him at the lunch table and texted him homework questions; but it all seemed a bit cooler than before, Alfred more rigid. As if he were forcing himself or something.  
Kiku had been preparing to try and talk to him about this for days now, talking himself into believing he was prepared for a possible confrontation even though it was the last thing he wanted.  
Now, as he stood here before Alfred, his mind blanked and he realized he’d never been anywhere near prepared at all.  
“Dude?” Alfred said again, “Are you okay?”  
“I… I just wanted to say… I’m sorry.” Kiku managed, feeling his face begin to burn.  
The warning bell rang but neither of them reacted, Alfred instead leaning against the row of lockers as he frowned.  
“For?” He seemed genuinely confused, like Kiku really hadn’t done a thing.  
“It’s just… ever since last week-“  
Realization dawned on Alfred and his eyes widened.  
“Look, it’s nothing okay?” He started to say, but Kiku shook his head.  
“It obviously is,” He said, forcing the words out before the awkwardness he was feeling got the better of him, “Ever since you’ve been upset with me, I can tell!”  
“It’s not so much you… well…” Alfred sighed, suddenly seeming exhausted as he rubbed his neck and looked at the ceiling of the now very empty hallway, “Shoot… Kiku, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to associate you with… that… really. I’m not mad at you, I swear.”  
“But… you don’t seem as happy around me as before.” Kiku said, shrinking into himself and staring at Alfred’s shoes, “It’s almost like you have to force yourself…”  
“Dude, Kiku, stop.” Alfred said, shaking Kiku’s shoulders and forcing him to look up, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”  
Kiku frowned, readjusting the grip on his backpack as Alfred groaned, reaching up to rub his face and clean his glasses.  
“It’s… not something I like talking about, alright?” He said, “And I hadn’t even thought about it for a long time until last week. It’s part of why I don’t really invite people over-my dad and pop think it’s because I’m embarrassed by them, and while that’s partly the case-they can be such weirdos-it’s ‘cause I don’t want what happened last week happening every time someone comes over.”  
“So… friends?” Kiku asked, holding a hand out.  
Alfred stared at the hand, stared at Kiku, then shook his head with a chuckle and grabbed the hand.  
“Friends,” He grinned, using Kiku’s hand to pull him closer so he could sling an arm around his shoulders and start dragging him down the hall.  
“Well, we’re both obscenely late to class-might as well enjoy it right?”  
“Where?”  
“Well, the bathrooms are for freshmen novices, I suggest we head maybe towards the library? Toris is an assistant in there this hour I think so he could cover for us.”  
“I guess, if there’s nowhere else.” Kiku muttered, torn between sucking it up and going to class  
“Sweet.” Alfred grinned before another chuckle rippled through him, “Dude, I think you’re the only person I’ve met who’s reacted that badly to an accident.”  
“I’m… sorry?”  
“And keeps apologizing.”  
Kiku sighed, cheeks turning red in embarrassment again, “I don’t have much social experience, if I’m being honest with you.”  
“What, they have a lot of snobby kids at your last school?” Alfred grinned, “Didn’t want to play nice with the smart kids?”  
“Sort of…” Kiku shrugged as they finally entered the library, “I was homeschooled most of my life, when my dad took me in is when I really started learning, before that it was whatever this kid or that kid would teach me.”  
“Wait,” Alfred frowned, freezing in between the fiction and science sections, “Took you in?”  
Kiku froze, he hadn’t meant to say that.  
“Ah, what I meant to say-“  
“Dude! No way!” Alfred laughed, “It’s like we were meant to be friends!”  
“I’m sorry, what?”  
Alfred laughed, clutching his stomach and bending forwards slightly, “Dude! You’re adopted?”  
Kiku huffed, a bit insulted, “So what?”  
“I’m adopted too!” Alfred cried, looking like Christmas had arrived.  
“Y… you are?”  
“Yeah!” Alfred laughed, “Man, that’s awesome! I’ve never met anyone else who was!”  
“I’ve met a few…” Kiku muttered before Alfred had his arm around his shoulder again and was dragging him further into the library.  
“There must be some sort of secret club I don’t know about then, because I haven’t.” Alfred said, flopping into one of the chairs set up in the middle of the library as a place to read, “How long ago?”  
“Five years,” Kiku sat down in the chair opposite, “Before that there were a few homes… they never worked out.”  
“Same man,” Alfred said, sitting forward as if he were sharing a secret, “I mean, I was adopted when I was like, five, but from what I remember I did not like the places they kept sticking me.” He sighed, grinning widely and sadly at Kiku, “Mattie and I, we’d always be running down the halls and up the stairs causing trouble ‘cause they were so mean to us-or at the very least for some reason. I may have false memories… When Dad and Pop came and got us they were near tears we were leaving.”  
“Mattie?” Kiku frowned, “He was there with you.”  
Alfred went pale, lips closing tightly and twisting together between his teeth. He sat back, a suddenly dark look taking hold.  
“Yeah… he was.” He said slowly.  
“Oh… well…” Kiku scrambled to think of a new turn for the conversation, “I don’t know if the home I was in could be considered mean, I didn’t like them though.”  
“Yeah? To many kids?”  
“Well…” Kiku realized to late his mistake, he was incredibly uncomfortable talking about before… it wasn’t a time worth remembering, “Umm… there was only one other kid there… she was my sister.”  
“You had to say goodbye?” Alfred asked, looking a bit broken.  
Kiku nodded, finding it suddenly hard to speak.  
He wasn’t expecting it, so when Alfred reached out and gripped his hand, Kiku nearly pulled away. Alfred held on though, and then he took the other one and stared Kiku hard in the eye, looking intense.  
“We’ll find them.” He said in a low, almost cautious voice, “Family should never be separated.”  
For the rest of the period things seem to calm down, as Alfred was quick to bury the conversation with ones concerning favorite movies, music, television shows, and Kiku took the opportunity to introduce Alfred to shojo manga.  
Walking together towards the lunch room, the two of them seemed to walk a bit closer in the hall, like they were connected somehow. And if you’d asked Toris or Feliks afterwards, they would have said the two seemed to be on their own level of things.  
~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~  
Waking up that morning, Ivan was greeted to the sight of a pale and sweaty Ludwig sneezing before Gerhalt was dragging them all downstairs, skipping the shower and sitting them on the couch. Mattie huddled deep into one corner, clutching his bear to his chest and his knees drawn to trap the toy to his chest. Lovino sat beside him, creating a sort of human barrier between him and the rest of the group.  
Peter and Wendy were dumped on the floor, where they backed up against the material of the couch and watched Grandpa carefully were he sat in a large recliner before them all.  
Ivan sighed, sitting beside Ludwig who sniffled and ran his arm against his nose.  
“Don’t do that Luddy, that’s disgusting.” Grandpa said, sounding tired. He looked around the room at the kids and his coworkers, who leaned against the wall waiting for him to speak, “There are a lot of disgusting things going on around here.”  
Confused, Ivan frowned, his interest piqued.  
Grandpa turned to Mattie, leaning forward as Mattie recoiled somehow further into the couch, “Mattie, sweetheart, you did very well last night. You made all of us very proud. However,” He turned to glower at Peter and Wendy, “You two left much to be desired. We do not kick our clients, we do not scream at them unless instructed, and we certainly do not insult them. You’re lucky that was just orientation.”  
Peter was glaring venomously, but he said nothing. Wendy preferred to stare hard at the carpet, body rigid.  
Grandpa looked remorseful, “I hate punishing my kids, I really do… I hope I don’t have to punish you two much more. I want us all to be happy together.”  
Ivan frowned, leaning his head against his propped up arm and watching Wendy and Peter struggle to not say anything as Grandpa smiled at them both. Eventually he turned to Grandpa and Gerhalt, giving a nod and getting up as the two of them started heading upstairs, beckoning the kids to follow.  
“Wait up Ivan,” Grandpa said, catching the pale blonde boy by the shoulder, “How about we take a trip today? Just you me and Wendy.” The older man smiled warmly, “Maybe a little time one on one with her new brothers is what she needs.”  
Ivan frowned, not in any way wanting to say yes. He didn’t want to go anywhere, especially alone, with this filthy old man, or Wendy really. He didn’t know what to make of her, except as a trouble maker that could get the rest of them in a lot of hot water if she and her brother acted up enough. The last thing he needed was another session with Gerhalt or the General. He’d done fairly well for so long, he didn’t want to screw anything up now.  
And Wendy wanted to escape.  
But, alas, Ivan also knew he didn’t have much choice in the matter and so begrudgingly nodded his head, a plastic smile gracing his face.  
“Wonderful.” Grandpa cheered, walking with Ivan upstairs, “Shower, get dressed, and meet me right here by the stairs. We’ll have such fun together!”  
When Ivan finally made it back to the stairs, leaning against the banister, Wendy was already there with a pout on her face and wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing since she’d gotten here. Ivan realized this trip was probably more for her than anyone, and it caused him to wonder why Grandpa would choose him to come along.  
“Such good kids!” Grandpa cheered as he walked out of his room, dressed sharply and newly shaved, “Wendy you’re making me proud already.”  
Wendy scowled, saying nothing as she stood up to follow Ivan and Grandpa down the stairs and out the door. It was silent during the car ride, Ivan and Wendy sitting in the back and looking out their respective windows as Grandpa drove, a classical station playing at a low volume so the car wasn’t completely devoid of sound.  
Arriving into town they saw the streets weren’t exactly empty, but there were still enough people walking up and down them to resemble a busy ant farm.  
Grandpa parked along the street, smiling excitedly as he ushered the two from their seats and onto the sidewalk where he then led them towards a clothing shop that Ivan instantly knew was not for him. The front windows were teeming with girl’s clothes and baby dresses, the name of the shop Madame de Frille, was etched into the glass in wide curvy writing, and the inside played the sugariest of retro pop songs.  
“I thought we’d start here,” Grandpa said, a hand squeezing Wendy’s shoulder, “Wendy needs quite a few more outfits if we’re to get her any attention.”  
Ivan gazed around the room, looking at the racks upon racks of girl’s and women’s clothes and internally groaned. He had the feeling they’d be stuck in there for hours.  
“Now remember dear,” Grandpa said, leaning down to speak softly into Wendy’s ear, “Any attempts at scurrying away or bothering any people we meet, and Peter’s getting his first client the moment I get back to the house.”  
Ivan watched Wendy go a shade paler, a bit sicker, and nod slowly before Grandpa shot her a warm smile and gently pushed her towards the children’s clothes. He then fell into step alongside Ivan, who followed Wendy out of needing something to do while he was trapped in here, and Grandpa looped his arm around the boy’s.  
“You’re getting taller,” Grandpa remarked, noticing the top of Ivan’s head came up to his mouth, “Although, you’ve always been tall. Kind of makes me sad, remembering how tiny you were as a kid.”  
Ivan watched Wendy half-heartedly run her fingers through a rack of dresses. He found himself criticizing her choice in attire, eyes instantly picking out something that looked like it would accentuate her girlish properties.  
“I also remember when we came to pick you up. Do you remember that?” Grandpa continued, stopping in the middle of the aisle and resting his chin on Ivan’s shoulder, “You were so cute, if a bit lonely looking.”  
Ivan turned slowly to frown at his caretaker.  
“All the other boys were either outside playing or laying around with books and mobile video games, but you were sitting in the play room with your crayons and drawing madly away.” Grandpa grinned, “They were very nice pictures too-I wish we’d remembered to grab them as we headed out the door.”  
Wendy was further among the racks now, only the top of her head visible.  
“You have an eye for colors and a talent for making things pretty.” Grandpa said, “It’s part of why I asked you to help me today, Peter will be easy to shop for. I picked out all of your guy’s clothes easy, but I want Wendy to look especially pretty.”  
Wendy was probably near the back now, Ivan couldn’t see her from here.  
Grandpa looked across the store, “Let’s make this a fun day, okay?” And with that he walked in a different direction than the one Wendy had gone, leaving Ivan to follow after the girl, who he found looking dejectedly through a stack of folded jeans.  
As he approached, she turned to him looking almost desperate.  
“Isn’t there anything we can do?” She hissed, as though afraid they’d be caught by talking at a normal level.  
“Shop.”  
“I meant about rescuing ourselves.”  
“And leave the others behind?” Ivan frowned, he could never do that to the others, he couldn’t even imagine it. Lovino had always said, they get out together or not at all. No one was getting left behind and Ivan had accepted the idea as gospel from day one.  
Wendy blanched, “Well… no… I couldn’t leave Peter by himself.”  
“And I can’t leave the others.” Ivan added, “All we can do is what Grandpa brought us here to do: find you something else to wear besides your school clothes.”  
Wendy looked down at the days old clothing and Ivan saw a small, selfish part of her agree.  
“It’s not like we can run now anyway, might as well take advantage of something else,” He held out his hand, “Come on, I saw something that would look better on you than these anyway.”  
They spent a good amount of time searching through the racks, Ivan holding items of clothing out in front of Wendy and trying to deem them worthy of a changing room test or not before either throwing them across his arm or dumping them back in their place on the rack. Wendy would point to things she liked and Ivan would either hold them up to look over or veto them on the spot.  
Eventually they worked their way to towards the changing room, where Ivan sat outside the stall on the bench, holding clothes as he handed items under the door for Wendy to put on. As she emerged each time he’d look over her with a critical eye, pointing out where an alteration was needed or where the clothes failed to compliment the girl. Then it was back into the changing room to try something else on as Ivan either gently set the clothing to the side of him, or dumped it on a rack meant for rejects.  
“How are you okay with this?” Wendy eventually asked as she was handed a pink t-shirt.  
“My sisters often had to change in front of me-privacy wasn’t an option in a few of the places we lived.” Ivan said, “I’m used to helping them pick out outfits-although, they didn’t have as wide a selection as you do right now.”  
“No… not that,” Wendy blushed, “I meant… this.” As she emerged from the changing stall she waved her hand around in the air, “Being… forced to do… that.”  
“Have sex for people who pay my caretakers instead of me and have every detail of my life controlled since I was eight?” Ivan asked simply.  
Wendy’s eyes grew wide, “Yeah…” She breathed.  
Ivan shrugged, his gaze giving the pink shirt a once over before something in him deemed it unworthy of being on Wendy, “Take that off, it’s disgusting.”  
“You said it was cute when we were out there!”  
“You weren’t wearing it out there.” Ivan said, holding his hand out, “Gimmie.”  
Wendy peeled the shirt off as quick as she could, snatching a dress from his arm this time and disappearing to change.  
“You still haven’t answered my question.” She said through the door.  
“How do I live in a nightmare?”  
“Yeah.”  
“I just do…” Ivan sat back, “When I was adopted by Grandpa, it was just me, Lovino, and Ludwig. Ludwig was to small for anyone other than Grandpa and Gerhalt to take an interest in-I think, it may have just been they weren’t letting anyone else see him-and what I was brought there to do…” He shivered, the mental image of the General bent over him as he lay on the floor, crying and hurting, sneering into his face and muttering things that carved themselves into Ivan’s memories even to this day, “I had two options: live or die. And after living for several years on the streets with nothing to eat and nowhere to go… I wasn’t about to give up just when there was a roof over my head and the promise of three meals a day.”  
“That can’t be the only reason!” Wendy cried as she emerged from behind the door, wearing a powder blue dress that flared out from her waist and ended at her knees. Ivan looked the dress over, getting up and gathering her hair up to pull to the side of her head, just to the left of the crown, and he nodded.  
“That one will be a good one, we’ll add that to the collection.” He said, handing her another dress, “Let’s see if this can even compare.  
“Ivan… is the promise of food really the only thing keeping you with them?” Wendy frowned.  
“There’s Lovino, Mattie, and Ludwig,” Ivan said, “I like them. They’re my friends.”  
“So why not all of you leave together?”  
Ivan was silent, lips pursed as he smoothed down one of the shirts in the Keep pile. Wendy watched him for a moment, before growing impatient and storming into the changing stall.  
“I can’t leave…” Ivan muttered after a while, “I just can’t…”  
“Don’t you miss your sisters?”  
“I barely think about them anymore.”  
Wendy was silent again until she reemerged, wearing a purple dress and looking disgusted.  
“How?” She asked, voice thick.  
“It’s easier that way,” Ivan’s voice took on a more hollow tone, “I can’t force myself to put up with what I’m forced to do here if I remember how my big sister would smile at me whenever I was upset, or how my little sister would cling to me when boys pulled her hair on the swings.”  
“Ivan?” Wendy reached out to touch his arm but he swatted her hand away, sitting back on the bench and clutching at himself with his arms.  
“I miss them… I really do…” He whispered, eyes zoning out, “I hate being here, forced to let those disgusting men touch me and play their games when it only hurts me in the end and they get to laugh and walk away…”  
The General would hit him during their sessions whenever he made a mistake, ranging from just his hand to his belt or even real horse whips.  
“They all make me sick… If I could get away with it, I’d strangle every last one of them and then I’d be the one to laugh and walk away.”  
There were clients who would make him say things, mean things about himself or his friends. The same clients would hit him too, laughing when he whimpered or burst into tears before he could stop himself.  
“But… if I was as ugly and mean as them… I’d be just like them, wouldn’t I?”  
He could see his friends, staring up at him in fear. He’d had nightmares, about himself being the client and them the performers. He’d have Mattie across the bed, a whip in his hand as he made the younger boy cry in fear and pain; maybe Lovino begging him to stop as he took out a day’s anger on him, and Ludwig in the corner watching and ready to be sick whenever Ivan made him say horrible things about himself.  
“And if I’m a monster… my sisters would never want me back.”  
He could imagine Katya’s face, full of disgust as Ivan came to resemble those men that would invite them to parties on the street. Even then, he’d been running from this sort of industry.  
“I doubt they’d even want me back now… as filthy and tainted as I am with… with those monster’s poison all over me.”  
He jumped when Wendy’s hands gripped his shoulders. There were tears in her eyes and she looked frightened.  
“Please stop…” She whispered, voice tight and mounting in pitch as she spoke, “Stop saying those things…”  
Ivan recoiled back, sick with himself he could scare her the way he did. Wendy wiped at her eyes, rubbing the tears into her skin and turning her cheeks red.  
“No… no don’t cry okay?” Ivan said when he’d recovered his voice, “Don’t cry… I’m sorry.” He reached out to hug her and she gladly reciprocated, surprising Ivan who wasn’t normally into people touching him or hugging him so tightly unless it was Katya or Natalya.  
“I’m sorry…” He whispered again, hiding his face in her shoulder. His eyes were feeling warm and his nose had begun to burn. He hadn’t cried for a long time now, he couldn’t even remember when it had happened, and the feeling was horrible to him now.  
“You’re not a monster…” Wendy choked out as she recovered her breath, “They are…”  
“I know… believe me I know… I’m sorry you ended up here with us. I’m sorry there wasn’t anyone to save you either.” Ivan whispered and the two of them lapsed into silent, strangled sobs before Ivan eventually pushed her back and wiped her cheeks.  
“Your face is to pretty to stain with tears,” He smiled, “Let’s find something just as pretty for you to wear alright? No more crying or else we’ll both get in trouble.”  
Wendy nodded sullenly, giving a final sniffle before Ivan handed her the next outfit with shaking hands. She turned to enter the changing stall again before Ivan grabbed her from behind and trapped her between his arms as tight as she could.  
“I’m sorry.” He muttered once more into the back of her head before letting her disappear into the room to change.


	14. Chapter 14

Yao ran his long fingers along the side of his cell phone, wondering if he should call or maybe text Kiku he was going to be a little late getting home today.  
While he despised the case itself, Yao had thrown himself into it with the fervor to rival a desperate parent’s. Within days he’d covered most of the city with cops searching, missing posters, and sent a warning reaching the darker levels of his jurisdiction that there was a cop on the prowl and he wasn’t to be trifled with.  
There wasn’t a particularly high level of crime where Yao operated, the random thief or mail fraud here and there, but that didn’t mean it was free of drug abusers and dealers, gangs, or thugs that liked to prowl the night. Yao knew Sadik and Heracles’ stories like well read books of the times they’d brushed death, yes it was a bit exaggerated but the level of danger they’d faced had been very accurate, and come away clean or the smallest of scars. Yao himself had nearly been shot in the neck once during his time as a beat cop.  
He sighed, collapsing backwards across his chair and staring at the large board they’d set up in an unused conference room. Peter and Wendy’s school pictures smiled back at him, unaware of what was probably happening to them in real time right now.  
Yao struggled to think of what step to take next. He’d covered most of the basics; Mrs. Micnat’s husband had been a figure in the wind since Wendy had been in diapers, the two of them living separated yet never actually filing for divorce. Yao had to wonder if it was due to lingering passions, or sheer laziness.  
Nevertheless, efforts to contact Mr. Micnat had been one avenue Yao had pursued early on. Perhaps, with any luck, this was all because of him. Maybe he’d grown to miss his daughter, despite not having visited in three years, and taken Peter along as well? Wendy would willingly go with her father, and if the two worked together to persuade Peter he might go along as well, right?  
This was shot down in a matter of hours however, as Mr. Micnat answered his phone in Sydney, Australia and was shocked to hear of his daughter’s disappearance.  
“That bimbo’s fault, I expect.” He hissed into the receiver, voice low and shaking before he promised to be on the next plane for the States and hung up. Yao wondered, not for the first time since contacting Mr. Micnat, why a man could leave his daughter alone without a word for three years, barely making himself apart of her life to begin with before that, and still be angry at her mother. Was he really doing any better of a job?  
Yao had then thought to look into Peter’s father’s involvement, applying the same logic as if it had been Mr. Micnat.  
Peter’s father was so far out of the picture, Mrs. Micnat had joked he wasn’t even near the wall it hung on. She revealed privately to Yao, red faced and reluctantly, that it had been a failed relationship a year before she’d met her currently estranged husband. The two had parted ways before she’d even had a chance to tell him she was pregnant with her first child, and she hasn’t heard from him since.  
“The only thing I’ve got left of him are Peter’s eyebrows.” She remarked, sitting back in the chair in Yao’s office and sighing, “And considering how things ended, I’m glad. I don’t want him in my life anymore-he’s from a different time in my life and he’d only drag me down…”  
When Mr. Micnat entered the station he did so with a storming gait and a slam of doors. He demanded to speak with whoever was in charge, although Yao suspected it would be to more yell at than speak. He was proven right when Officer Karpusi pointed him to Yao’s door and the man head straight for him with a dark look on his face.  
“Where’s my daughter?” He demanded angrily.  
Yao regarded him coldly, stepping to the side and offering the man an invitation into his office.  
“If you’d like to take a seat, I’d be happy to speak to you.” He said.  
Mr. Micnat huffed, looking annoyed as he entered and flopped into the seat. Yao sighed, internally counting to ten before turning around as he shut the door. He leaned against the front of his desk, looking Mr. Micnat over once before swallowing and clearing his throat in an effort to waste time.  
“So far, we’ve discerned that no one Wendy or Peter knew personally were responsible.” He said slowly, waiting for Mr. Micnat to huff in disbelief before continuing, “All their friends and their families had valid alibis, the neighbors and their staff too. Mrs. Micnat and her running group were obviously out of the picture as was their housekeeper.”  
Mr. Micnat glowered silently at Yao, who paused to breathe before continuing.  
“We’ve interrogated all nearby registered sex offenders, repeat child criminals, and anyone who’s come through here who might have had something to with it. We’ve searched every nook and cranny of this city, and I’m running patrols everywhere, so far we’ve turned up nothing-“  
“So you’ve essentially accomplished nothing?!” Mr. Micnat snarled.  
“Actually, it means we’ve accomplished a great deal,” Yao said coolly, “It means we know where they’re not. Later I’m planning to meet with some other detectives of the nearby jurisdictions and we’ll be continuing the investigation from there.”  
Mr. Micnat was silent, still glaring at Yao, but then he sighed, his body deflating.  
“Just… just tell me there’s a chance Wendy’s still alive.”  
Yao bit his lip, knowing that a child’s still being alive past the first forty eight hours of abduction were slim. Yes, she and Peter very well could still be alive, and yet then again they could just be searching for a corpse at this point.  
“I believe that until there’s proof to the contrary,” Yao said slowly, “Your daughter to be very much alive.”  
Mr. Micnat smirked, “Thanks… doesn’t help as much as I thought it would… but thank you.”  
“You’re very welcome.” Yao said, standing and moving to his chair on the other side of the desk, “Now, Mr. Micnat, what’s your relationship with your wife and child like?”  
Mr. Micnat barked a laugh, “I’m being questioned?”  
“You are connected to the case after all.”  
“But I can’t even be considered a suspect.”  
“You still might possess a clue and not realize it.” Yao said patiently, “I’ve talked to everyone I can, except for you.”  
Mr. Micnat rolled his eyes, sighing and nodding before saying, “Victorrie and I… aren’t really on the best of terms with one another.”  
“Would your marital problems ever lead her to take it out on the children?”  
“No!” Mr. Micnat gasped, looking horrified, “Heavens no!”  
“Would it ever lead you to take it out on the children?”  
“No!”  
“Do you know of anyone that might want to harm you or your family?”  
Mr. Micnat chuckled, “Maybe a few business competitors, but they can manage that legally enough without having to resort to kidnapping my daughter.”  
“What is your relationship with your daughter?” Yao asked, genuinely curious, “Mrs. Micnat says you don’t have much contact with them.”  
“No, I don’t have much contact with her.” Mr. Micnat said, “I talk to my daughter every other week or when I’m not so busy that I can have a decent length conversation with her.”  
“Does your wife know about this?”  
“I assume so, she hasn’t tried to stop the calls after all, though Wendy’s said that our relationship is a bit of a sore spot for the woman.”  
“Do you talk to Peter at all?”  
“No,” Mr. Micnat shook his head, “He’s always been a bit distant with me, even when he was younger. I sometimes wonder if perhaps he always knew I wasn’t his dad, and when it came out before I left once on a business trip he took it far better than I ever expected.”  
“What’s your relationship with him like?”  
“There is none, I haven’t seen or spoken to him since I left. Wendy keeps me updated, but I haven’t actually spoken to him since the last time I visited over… three years ago?”  
“Right.” Yao nodded, scribbling into his pocket notebook, “Thank you Mr. Micnat, I’ll be sure to let you know if I learn anything.”  
Mr. Micnat shook his hand, “Christopher, please, and thank you.”  
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“You can’t be serious!”  
“Gilbert everyone gets time off, and frankly you could use a break.”  
Gilbert snorted in disgust, “And if I say no?”  
Roderich sighed, leaning back in his chair and staring at his cousin with a pained expression, “Don’t make me go that route Gil…”  
“I can’t leave!” Gilbert insisted, trying in earnest to get Roderich to understand, “What if something happens?”  
“I doubt anything’s going to happen-“  
“That case a few jurisdictions over, what if it’s connected-“  
“Don’t you do dare do that.” Roderich snapped, leaning forward, “Don’t do that to yourself, don’t do that to them. I don’t see how Ludwig could be connected to the case, when his is nine years old and the trails cold and this has nothing relating to it.”  
Gilbert snarled, “I can’t leave!”  
“It’d only be for a few days Gil!” Roderich cried, exasperated, “Please! You’re overworked as it is, any more like this and you’re sure to collapse!”  
“I won’t collapse just because a few thugs have to be chased down.” Gilbert said belligerently.  
“You will after weeks of no rest. Vash says you nodded off in the car during patrol today.”  
“I don’t think-“  
“You were at the wheel Gil! You especially need to be alert in that part of the car!”  
“Don’t pretend my sudden need for a vacation has anything to do with my physical health Roddy!” Gilbert shouted suddenly, “This is because of that case!”  
“Don’t do this again,” Roderich groaned.  
“Every time a kid goes missing nearby, our jurisdiction or not, you start pressuring me to take time off.” Gilbert continued, “It’s almost like you don’t want me around when the subjects are raised.”  
Roderich sighed, leaning far back in his chair and removing his glasses. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking exhausted before slowly replacing his glasses and leaning forward over his desk. He fixed Gilbert with a hard look, all signs of familiarity gone and in its place a stern police commissioner.  
“I don’t.” He said, voice hard, “Gilbert you’re obsessed. You admitted to me once the only reason you joined the force even was to make an effort to find your brother, and it’s exactly the reason I can’t have you getting obsessed over every missing persons case that floats our way or around us.”  
“What are you saying?” Gilbert whispered.  
“I’m saying you’re a danger to these kinds of cases!” Roderich cried, “You’ll try to connect them to Ludwig somehow, even if the connection just isn’t there and that’s not fair to anybody! Gilbert, I can’t let you do that to yourself, do you realize how bad it could be?”  
“You’re not letting me look for my brother… or help anyone else in my exact position… because you’re afraid of something I might do?”  
“Something I know you’ll do!” Roderich’s voice was rising in pitch, “You do it now! Looking through every perp book we have, scouring every story and report about unidentified bodies, the trips I know you take on your vacations to try and uncover fresh leads for a nine year old case that’s gone nowhere… Gilbert, you need a break, an actual break. And now is the best time to take it.”  
“Oh really? What makes it the perfect time, huh?”  
“This new case…” Roderich sighed, seeming to deflate a bit, “One of the kidnapped kids looks a bit like Ludwig did at that age. I don’t want you obsessing over this just to get your heart broken in the end.”  
Gilbert snarled, glancing at the coarkboard on Roderich’s office wall where the missing posters of Peter and Wendy Micnat hung. Peter had the eyes and the hair sure, but those eyebrows? No… there’s no way Gilbert would ever get the two confused. Ludwig would be much cuter than him, easy.  
“Please,” Roderich sighed again, “I’ve already drawn up the paperwork. I’ll expect you to hand it in by Monday or else I’m going to be forced to take steps.” He was holding a bundle of papers out to Gilbert, fingers clutching the paper tightly in case Gilbert tried to knock them out of his hand (he had before).  
With a last snarl, Gilbert snatched the vacation request forms out of his commissioner’s hand and stormed out of the office, not bothering to catch the door before it slammed back into place behind him. No one dared look in his direction as he sat down at his desk, grumbling over the pages as his eyes looked them over scathingly. For the rest of his shift, he sat there in silence, anger brewing over and rage coloring his vision so red he almost couldn’t drive.  
He didn’t really think about where he was headed, only knowing that by the time he was pulling the car into a nice, long driveway he’d arrived at Roderich and Elizabeta’s house. The lights inside were on, and he only saw Elizabeta’s car sitting just ahead of his.  
Getting out, he crossed a well-manicured lawn and banged his fist against the door, nearly punching Eliza in the face when she opened it, looking cross. Her expression melted a bit into a more concerned frown when she saw Gilbert, or more accurately, the look on his face.  
“Come in,” She sighed, stepping back.  
Gilbert breathed deeply, “Cooking dinner?”  
“It is almost dinnertime.”  
Gilbert rolled his eyes, collapsing on a stool at the breakfast bar as Elizabeta returned to cooking.  
He’d known Elizabeta for almost what he figured was seven years now. Meeting her in highschool, his first glimpse of the brunette was when she’d appeared out of virtually nowhere to peck his cousin on the cheek and dash back through the halls of the highschool again. It’d be another three hours until lunch, when he’d get a formal introduction and a sweet smile.  
He’d been instantly smitten.  
However, Elizabeta’s eyes never even wavered from Roderich, even when their relationship hit a low point and everyone was certain they’d be breaking up, instead they turned around and got married. Gilbert served as best man at the wedding, finding it hard to tear his eyes away from the bride as she jumped Roderich, kissing him passionately like you see in all those cheesy romance movies.  
Elizabeta hadn’t been ignorant about Gilbert’s feelings though, and even now as he sat watching her looking drained of the very will to live, she offered him a kind smile and an arm squeeze before turning to open the oven door. Gilbert supposed he should feel lucky, how many other women could he honestly say would have stuck through all the years of Gilbert’s craziness? Between trying to find his brother, and breaking down from failing at trying to find his brother, Elizabeta had probably been there for more than Roderich had, and Gilbert had lived with Roddy.  
“So, was it a case, or did my darling husband say something?” Eliza asked.  
“I’m taking time off,” Gilbert sighed, “There’s a new case… and Roderich wants me out of the station.”  
“Well… perhaps it’s not such a bad thing.” Eliza muttered.  
“You too?” Gilbert groaned.  
“Gilbert, look in the mirror,” Eliza sighed, leaning forward on the counter and fixing him with a stern look, “You’re tired. You’re running on fumes.”  
“I am not-“  
“Not to mention,” Eliza continued, “We’re worried about you.”  
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that one before-“  
“Obviously not! You look worse than you did last week at the field!” Eliza snapped, “Gilbert obsessing over this, though a noble cause, is killing you. Would Luddy want that?”  
“He’d want me to find him!”  
“And then? Gilbert please, at least take a few days to let yourself breathe.” Eliza sighed, reaching out and taking his hand, “For us at least? Don’t make Roddy and I watch as you waste away into some… some obsessed and depressed corpse. Ludwig wouldn’t appreciate it, I’m sure. In fact it would hurt him.”  
“But Lizzy…” Gilbert sighed, “What if something does come in? And I’m not there?”  
“If something did come in Roderich would have you on the phone and back to the station before they had time to blink.” Eliza said, “He knows this means to much to you to do anything else.”  
Gilbert sighed, the exhaustion causing his body to ache.  
“And in exchange,” Eliza said, “Get in your car, drive somewhere nice, and get some sleep.”  
Looking at the big brown eyes staring at him, Gilbert ran an affectionate hand through Elizabeta’s thick hair and sighed again, reaching forward to peck her on the forehead before standing up and making his way for the front door.  
“Not staying for dinner?” She called.  
“Can’t,” He said, opening the door, “Gotta start packing.”  
And with that he shut the front door, got into his car, and passed Roderich’s as they both travelled home.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter contains an intense violent scene and rape (though I don’t really go into sexy time detail as I’m not comfortable writing those scenes-it’s mainly just the violence I detail ((lame I know, sorry))). Readers are advised to read at their own discretion.

With Monday mornings came the weekly reminder that there was a thing called school. Something Alfred hated beyond measure, despite the fact that things like football, his friends, and that hot sub he hoped was in charge of his science class today, were all there.

His Dad shook him awake, the alarm failing it’s job that morning, and Alfred muddled through cinnamon toast and his parent’s barbed banter before getting dropped off in time to see gray clouds looming in the distance behind the school building.

It was like an omen to him, and he groaned as he made his way inside, not at all ready to start the day. And it was a shame too, because Alfred had to suffer through three quizzes, a surprise test (well, surprise to him anyway) and hours of boring notes. He fell asleep twice, got caught once, and endured Carlos’ snickering and general annoyances throughout the day.

He couldn’t even get excited about the latest volume of D. Gray-Man Kiku handed him, listening as his friend gushed over the storyline and the characters, talking as if they were real genuine people he was ridiculously close to.

Things seemed to come to a head though, when Alfred walked into the locker room after practice.

Carlos seemed to grate on his nerves considerably more today than any other, and after enduring several odd lewd gestures and comments from his infamous rival, Alfred felt himself closer and closer to finally reattempting to break the idiot’s neck.

As the students filed into the locker room, Alfred flipped his towel over his shoulder and bent down towards his open locker to hunt for his body wash. He smelled horrible, and after years of being groomed by two hygiene perfectionists he wasn’t about to waste a second more with a layer of dried sweat across his skin.

“Do that position often?” Carlos asked as he passed by.

Alfred, sucking in a breath  and releasing it heavily, stood at full height and turned to Carlos.

“What does that even mean?” He asked, “What has anything you’ve said today meant?”

“Like you don’t know.” Carlos snorted, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t.”

“Really?” Carlos raised a skeptical eyebrow, “Or are you just trying to save face in front of a bunch of real men?”

Alfred sighed, rubbing a hand across his face and wiping some of the sweat away as he did so. He sighed, tired and unbelievably annoyed while he stared down the boy he’d been calling his worst nemesis since he was a kid. Carlos looked unbelievably smug and something deep in Alfred’s gut just wanted to rip that smile off his stupid face.

“If anyone should be trying to ‘ _save face_ ’ in front of a bunch of real men it should be you _niñito_ ,”Alfred snickered, wiggling his pinky finger downward, “Or should I remind everyone of a certain incident that made us question that in the first place?”

 Carlos’ face immediately went pink at the memories and he snarled as Alfred turned sharply towards the showers.

“Big talk coming from a painted whore.” Carlos muttered under his breath, pulling Alfred to a screeching halt.

“Excuse me?” He said slowly, turning around to look at a now very smug Carlos.

“You heard me,” Carlos laughed, “I saw you, all dressed up and painted down like you were something special-well, until that one guy had his way with you, then you didn’t look like much of anything.”

“And when was this, moron?” Alfred snorted.

“Last weekend, or did he shoot you up with something too?” Carlos asked.

“Last weekend?” Alfred frowned, “I’ve been here all weekend-practicing for the upcoming games? The ones that we all said were kinda important? Remember those, ugly?”

Carlos frowned, “No way, I saw you. Up at the lake houses.”

“So they let trash like you up there now? That’s amazing.” Alfred snorted.

“I. Saw. You.” Carlos insisted, growing aggravated, “You were a freaking slut! It was disgusting!”

“And yet you were there,” Alfred sighed, “Seems like the only thing disgusting around here is you.” He turned to go but Carlos grabbed him by the arm, grip crushing. A few of the other guys turned to watch, perhaps waiting for a fight to break out.

“Let go.” Alfred said evenly.

“You can’t lie to me-I saw you.” Carlos snarled, “Do your folks know? Hell, did they take you? I always knew you were a bunch of freaks-“

Carlos didn’t get much further in his insult as Alfred’s fist choked him, knocking out a back molar as it went. Carlos screamed through the fist and lunged forward, trying wrap his hands around Alfred’s neck as he went and Alfred began clawing his way into his opponent’s face. They guys around them were shouting, some egging the fight to continue while others tried to pry them apart but the two were locked together, trying to be the first to rip the other’s throat out.

That was, until the coach made his way out of the office and stormed through the crowd towards the brawling boys. With his own loud growl and swift movement, he pulled Carlos off of Alfred and held them at arm’s length from each other. The two panted, newly made scratches and bruises beginning to make themselves known across their skin and blood dripping from Carlos’ jaw.

“Just _what_ is going on here?” Coach Davie cried.

“Alfred punched me!” Carlos snarled.

“Carlos is an idiot!”

“That’s not sufficient reason to hit someone Al,” Coach sighed, “Although I applaud your efforts in weeding out those with faulty common senses.”

“Coach!” Carlos cried, offended.

“It’s the only thing that explains this being your third fight this week, now to my office, the both of you!”

Silently the two followed one another towards the open office door, collapsing into the chairs lining the front wall of the football coach’s office. Outside they could hear Coach Davie yelling at the others about how to conduct themselves when faced with adversity and blah-de blah-da… Alfred’s gut was roiling in a rage as he shot a heated snarl towards Carlos, who rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“Slut…” He muttered under his breath.

“What is all that supposed to mean, huh?” Alfred exploded again, “Seriously, your insults make no sense today! How in the world did I act like a slut?!”

“Lake Destino, that giant neighborhood that surrounds it? The big ol’ house where all those parties are being hosted all the time? How the hell did you even get in that place for a job?”

“I’ve never been to Lake Destino!” Alfred cried.

“My cousin took me up there, we went inside for a few laughs and we saw you dancing all over some big ugly bald guy with a pornstache.” Carlos said before frowning, his eyes wandering to Alfred’s hair, “You were wearing a wig or something, your hair reached your shoulders.”

Alfred rolled his eyes, “Har-dee har doofus, this is seriously one of the worst jokes you’ve ever played-and look where it’s landed us.”

“I’m being serious! We’re alone now, why don’t you just admit it?!” Carlos snapped.

“Because there’s nothing to admit!” Alfred shouted, “I’ve never been to Lake Destino, I’ve never worn a wig, and my hair has looked like this since kindergarten!”

“That is so not true, I’ve seen you with your hair longer-summer before first grade.”

“That was my brother you dumba-“ Alfred choked on his words, going a shade or two paler. Carlos frowned, waiting for him to continue the insult but Alfred instead closed his jaw and sat back in his chair, reaching up to twist strands of his hair inbetween his fingers.

“Hello?” Carlos frowned, “I believe we were in the middle of tearing each other’s throats out?”

Alfred just shot him a dark look and then Coach Davie was storming into the office, effectively ending all chances to continue the argument.

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The day had started bad, and there was absolutely no sign of things letting up anytime soon. Wendy nervously played with the hem of her new dress, a frilly pink number Ivan had especially been excited to see her wear (although, looking at him now across the room it was obvious he didn’t want her to wear it for anything like this). She’d woken up in the basement with a head ache, Peter partially on top of her and forcing her head against the wall in an uncomfortable position. Gerhalt had appeared, snapped incessantly at them over showers, breakfast, and chores, before Grandpa appeared looking calmer than usual. Wendy had learned by now that a calm Grandpa meant something was bound to happen. What though, she’d had no idea until now. Leading up to this moment, she’d wondered and fretted, dancing on pins and needles as his eyes slowly appraised her throughout the day.

Now the man, Dwight as he’d lovingly cooed at her to call him, had her chin in his hand as he looked her over like some animal at a blue ribbon contest.

“And this is her first time?” He asked, looking back to Grandpa, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Doesn’t that make it all the more worth the simple price I’m asking?”

Dwight nodded, “Yes, yes it does, I suppose.” He released Wendy’s jaw, holding his hand out to her and smiling wide, “Come on then dear.”

Wendy stared at him in absolute fear, wanting to step away but the General was standing behind her and she bumped into his legs, effectively trapped. She squeaked in fear and Gerhalt stormed forward to drag her after Dwight, who followed a bouncing Grandpa to the Room.

Behind her, she heard a commotion and turned in time to see Lovino holding tight to Peter, who looked enraged and near tears. Her last glimpse of anything resembling safety was a pair of bright, teary, blue eyes that pleaded for her to come back and a pair of large amber eyes telling her to be safe.

Gerhalt tossed her on the bed, where she bounced and nearly fell off the other side.

“Now, I do want to warn you that some of her brother’s influence seems to have rubbed off, if she kicks or bites or anything just say the word and we’ll take care of it.” Grandpa said.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Dwight laughed, casting a heated glance in Wendy’s direction, “I don’t mind it being a little rough.”

“Atta boy!” Gerhalt laughed, clapping Dwight on the back as he and Grandpa made their way out of the room. Wendy heard the door lock and a small whimper as Dwight turned in her direction. He shed his coat, hanging it on the doorknob and reaching up to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“I remember my first time,” He said conversationally, stepping closer, “I was probably fifteen. There was this sweet, sweet girl who lived on my street that I’d known for years-you actually look a lot like her at that age.”

Wendy was frozen to the bed, fighting the urge to be sick.

Dwight removed his shirt, tossing it towards the empty chair and reaching down for the zipper of his pants, “Anyway, I really liked her, and I _knew_ she really liked me. And, you know, as the birds and the bees goes… well, one day our moms decided to get together. That meant she and I had a little alone time together, something that had never really happened before.”

His pants followed the same path as his shirt, and he climbed onto the bed beside Wendy in nothing but his underwear. He reached out, rubbing Wendy’s arm in slow, circular motions. Wendy bit her lip, squeezing her eyes shut as she tried to focus on something else.

Earlier today was the first thing to float to her mind, sitting there with Grandpa’s eyes boring into her had been uncomfortable, and she shifted once or twice in her seat. Around her, the older boys were sharing knowing looks, Mattie’s lips pressed into a tight line and Ivan refusing to look anywhere other than at his breakfast. When Lovino’s gaze met Wendy’s, he offered her a small smile, as if to reassure her things would be alright even though she knew they weren’t. All the while, Grandpa stared at her from different angles in the kitchen, until finally his phone buzzed in his pocket and he disappeared to take a call.

_“Here,_ ” Mattie had said, sliding a portion of his food onto Wendy’s plate, _“You’re probably gonna need it later.”_

Dwight pushed her back onto the mattress, using his strength to make her body press further in.

_“Why?”_ Wendy and Peter had asked, making Mattie flinch.

_“Well… the way he was looking Wendy over…”_

_“He probably has a client for you.”_ It was Ivan who’d spat the words out, looking disgusted.

“I’m planning something real nice for you sweetie.” Dwight whispered in her ear, his breath hot and putrid.

_“A client?”_ Peter’s eyes had been wide and a snarl twisted his face. Wendy hadn’t been able to move, frozen with nausea and fear.

_“Yeah…”_ Ludwig muttered, looking sympathetic, _“Don’t worry… you’re new so people won’t really notice you yet. I bet you won’t get another client for awhile.”_

_“How about no client at all?”_ Peter had snapped.

“I don’t want you to be scared,” Dwight was still whispering, his fingers tracing and twisting the puffed shoulder sleeves of Wendy’s dress, “You’re to pretty to hurt, I’m gonna be real gentle with you, you’ll love it.”

_“Can’t we do something?”_ Wendy asked, finding her voice and hearing it tremble.

_“Like what?”_ Lovino sighed, _“I doubt they’d be willing to switch.”_

_“Can’t I say no?”_

The table had erupted in laughter.

_“Don’t you think we’d have said no every opportunity?”_ Lovino asked and his gaze had flickered over a still healing bruise along Mattie’s face. Wendy did the same, biting her lip.

Dwight moaned above her, having finished feeling up what he’d purchased and began to actually use as he slowly, probably attempting to be sensual, pulled the dress off.

Wendy felt like crying, pressed into the mattress with Ivan’s words ringing in her ears.

_“Don’t be weak, don’t let them break you.”_ He’d hissed across the table, looking more like a feral animal then a boy.

But Wendy couldn’t stop the tears pricking at her eyes, the squeaks of fear as Dwight tried to be “romantic” and he reached  out to touch her. As his hands descended, she finally cried out and tried to move away.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay baby.” He whispered softly, reaching out to draw her into his arms, “It’s okay.”

_“Don’t be weak, don’t let them break you.”_

Wendy began to push away, her small arms certainly no match against Dwight’s adult body but enough to get the message across she wanted out of his arms.

“Ready to get the show on the road?” He asked, smiling amicably.

“Don’t touch me.”

“… What?”

The two stared at each other, Dwight surprised and Wendy defiant. She’d gone numb to her fear and despair, and now she was merely angry. She was angrier than she’d ever been and something inside of her snapped as she stared the perverted man down.

“You heard me.” She spit, “Don’t touch me.”

A shadow passed over Dwight’s face and he was silent for a minute or two.

Then he sprung forward, pinning Wendy to the bed as she elicited a scream of surprise.

“I tried to be nice,” Dwight sighed, laughing pathetically, “I tried to make your first time a pleasant one… but I guess that’s impossible now isn’t it?”

“Get off!” Wendy’s demands were met with a sharp slap to the cheek.

“You’re going to shut-up.” Dwight hissed dangerously, “And you’re going to take what’s coming to you, you little slut.”

And then all Wendy knew was pain. Pain and blood and tears, screaming in the distance that she figured may have been her own but then again probably not. There was a loud ringing in her ears and she couldn’t breathe. She kicked and scratched, her small fingernails, trimmed short, doing little damage besides leaving temporary red lines along Dwight’s arms and face. He returned the injuries with a few of his own, leaving Wendy screaming and crying harder.

Then Dwight sighed, relaxing and sitting back, his arms leaving bruises on her shoulders where his grip had been bone crushing.

_“Don’t let them break you!”_

Wendy, the moment she was released, kicked Dwight in the chest and scrambled off the bed, leaving a trail of blood behind her. Dwight coughed, breathe dispelled and surprised, before he tore after her. She cried out, fighting the grip he had on her hair and kicking at his legs. He began to drag her back to the bed and then the door slammed open behind them.

Peter stood there, face red and angry, the key to the Room clutched in one hand and he gave a feral cry as he launched forward. Surprised and not ready for the attack, Dwight cried out as the key lodged itself in the base of his neck and dragged down, leaving a shallow scratch that dribbled blood.

“Let go of her!” Peter screamed, stabbing at Dwight with the key and kicking him, one shot landing itself at his groin. Dwight cried out, bending forward and then collapsing to his knees and Peter began to kick at his side. Wendy, her head aching and blood oozing where pieces had been torn out, stepped back as she watched. She felt cold, numb, as she watched her brother kick at the man in a frenzy.

Then, all too soon, Grandpa and Gerhalt were there, throwing Peter against the wall and helping Dwight make his way to the bed.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Gerhalt snarled, turning to kick at Peter. Peter cried out, crawling this direction and that in an attempt to get away but Gerhalt followed him, landing quite a number to Peter’s gut and face.

“Gerhalt! Gerhalt stop!” Grandpa eventually cried and Gerhalt removed his shoe from Peter’s cheek, allowing the boy to slump to the carpet where he coughed and retched, dinner making a reappearance across the carpet.

Gerhalt and Grandpa groaned in disgust and then Gerhalt grabbed Peter by the arm, forcing him to his feet. On his way out the door, he snatched Wendy too and forced her along. She nearly tripped, feeling dazed and disoriented she found it hard to concentrate moving her feet.

Outside, sitting across the living room, were the others. They stared silently in shock as Peter and Wendy were dragged past, and Wendy could have sworn she say Mattie and Ivan’s eyes wet. Lovino began to get up to follow, words for their defence on his lips when the General grabbed his wrist and shook his head.

The closet door was ripped open and the two of them were shoved inside, forced to sit down facing each other in the cramped space.

“You can stay in there and rot for all I care.” Gerhalt hissed, slamming the door and locking it, plunging them into darkness.

Peter was quiet, breathing even and slow while Wendy trembled opposite him, breathing ragged and sporadic.

After a while Peter began to whisper, voice hoarse and injured.

“Didn’t think I even had it in me… did you?” He whispered, “At least in here there’s no one ready to touch us.”

Wendy was silent, and one had to wonder if she might be having a panic attack.

“I… I stole the key out of Grandpa’s pocket. While he was texting somebody.” Peter continued, unsure of what to do as he listened to his sister suffer, “Ludwig saw me too, he looked so scared it was almost funny.”

Wendy remained silent, except for a small whimper that forced its way out.

“You… you should have seen it Wendy.” Peter said, a small and weak chuckle filling the darkness, “I don’t think anyone’s ever been as sneaky as me. That old goat never even noticed I’d slipped the key out of his pocket until I was in the room.”

Wendy continued to silently shake, staring vacantly into the blackness.

And then she began to cry.

Wendy was inconsolable, the shock of what had happened wearing off and leaving her to feel the pain. Both physical and mental she remembered every second of the ordeal and her body smarted in every way possible. Peter attempted to hug her but she pushed him back, into the other wall of the closet where he cracked his head painfully.

Wendy trembled, the feeling of Dwight’s fingers digging into her arms somehow more painful now then when they’d actually been gripping her. She reached around to touch the bruises, wincing at each one and reveling in the upsetting realization that this had not been simply a bad dream or some movie. This had happened to her, had actually been done and left her feeling ready to die.

She was sickened, she was ashamed, she wanted to rip her skin from it’s place on her body because _he_ touched it and she wanted to bleach her brain because _his_ image was stuck in there. She’d never be able to undo the fact that her first time had been in some strange house she didn’t know with a monster and against her will. Her brother had had to see her like that, bloody, mostly naked, and beaten. Her brother had attempted to save her and instead had gotten kicked so hard he’d puked his guts out.

Where were the cops? Where was her mother? Where was GOD? How could this have happened? How could this be allowed to happen? Wendy hated herself as much as she hated the rest of the world for allowing it all to go down as it had. She hated herself because she’d been unable to somehow escape an impossible situation, she hated the world for allowing monsters like that to roam free or set up houses full of kidnapped kids who were forced to those things every day with no hope. She sobbed long and loud, betrayal and pain the only things she was capable of registering at that moment.

Peter attempted to console her several times but it was impossible, she was lost in the memories and the self-loathing. She’d continue like that for the rest of the night, shaking and crying loudly until her throat gave out.

During a spell of silent tears, when she didn’t have the energy for full-sobbing, she realized something she’d said that morning had been completely ridiculous.

_“I forgot to thank you.”_ She’d said after breakfast, stopping Mattie as everyone else shuffled from the kitchen. Peter had lingered in the door for her, watching silently.

_“Thank me?”_

_“For saving us.”_

Mattie’s eyebrows had furrowed in confusion.

_“You could have let that man do something to us, but you didn’t. When I… when I kicked him and he tried to slap me, you got in the way.”_

Mattie chuckled lightly, reaching up to fiddle with a curly strand of hair.

_“You would have done the same for me-besides, he’d only paid for me, he wasn’t supposed to touch you.”_

_“Still… I think it proves there’s still something good in the world.”_


	16. Chapter 16

Wendy and Peter were still locked in the closet two days later, every once in a while one of them would bang on the door, usually followed by Peter’s shouting, and Lovino would wince as one of their caretakers would shout for them to stop, even Grandpa, who was still apparently very upset.  
Lovino tried to keep to his room, books laying across his cot and stacked around him on the floor like a small barrier. Occasionally he’d be asked to come out, usually by Grandpa, or ordered out, always by Gerhalt, to do a chore here or there. The sun had begun to dip from it’s place in the sky when Grandpa appeared, looking giddy as he smiled at Lovino, pride radiating in his eyes.  
“Get dressed! Quick!” He said, ushering Lovino towards the closet. Quickly, he began plucking shirts off the rod, holding them up in front of Lovino before shaking his head and setting them back on the rack. He did this over and over until he was holding a dark blue shirt against Lovino’s chest, to which he smiled and threw at Lovino to put on. Searching for pants and black socks, he was humming to himself as Lovino got dressed up.  
“What’s this about?” He asked, tying the leather shoes Grandpa threw in his direction.  
“Lovi, you have a visitor!” He said, taking Lovino by the hand and pulling him to the banister. Down below, standing and smiling up at him from the living room, was Romeo; Lovino’s most… intimate customer to date.  
Romeo smiled warmly, bouncing on the balls of his feet beside the General, who was holding a long white envelope.  
“Afternoon Cinny,” He grinned as Grandpa dragged Lovino down the stairs, “I think I’m to be your favorite client after today.”  
Lovino raised a questioning eyebrow, looking between Grandpa and the General, who was smirking.  
Romeo extended his hand, “I’ve paid for you for the afternoon. I thought maybe you’d enjoy some dinner outside of this boring old house.” He winked in Grandpa’s direction, “Not that there’s much boring about this place, that is.”  
Grandpa rolled his eyes, snorting in amusement.  
“I take that as a compliment,” He waved his hand towards the door, “Now go on, have fun-and remember, Gerhalt’s going to be following as per our policy.”  
“Of course, of course,” Romeo smiled, taking Lovino by the hand and pulling him to the front door. As they passed the kitchen, he caught sight of the others watching, Mattie and Ivan wide eyed and Ludwig staring at his plate. Lovino tried to not look at them as he left, feeling both guilty for being allowed to leave, and terrified those might be the last faces he saw them make.  
Gerhalt, despite the incredible douchebag he is, wouldn’t allow Romeo to do anything crazy right? Lovino had to wonder that when he noticed the man was only following a block behind and whenever they stopped at a red light he’d begin checking his phone.  
The restaurant was an Italian one, Romeo parking the car down the street and tugging Lovino to his side and leading him down the sidewalk. He tucked their arms together like a real couple, pressing close to Lovino’s side. He grinned wide, smiling at those passed and pressing a number of bills into the host’s hand as they entered.  
“By the window, if you please?” He said as the man slipped the bills into his pocket and nodded. Romeo held Lovino’s chair out for him, pushing him up to the table and seating himself as menus were passed out.  
“Nice place right?” Romeo smiled, “It’s one of my personal favorites, I’ve been coming here for years.”  
Lovino nodded once, spying Gerhalt outside reading a newspaper in his car as he looked around. Romeo flashed their waitress a grin and pointed to something on the menu. He felt strange, simply sitting here alone with none of the others around. They usually went on outings together, everyone sitting around a table to have a good time (and potentially scout out customers if Grandpa played his cards right). He’d never been anywhere alone, much less some sort of “date”. He began to feel tense, unsure if it was safe here, especially with the wide, excited smiles Romeo continued to send him.  
“Do you know what you want?” Came the question, cutting through Lovino’s train of thought and grounding him to the present. He hurriedly scanned over the menu, pointing to a picture of some pasta dish he didn’t have time to try and find it listed on the menu. Silently, he pointed to the photo and glanced sheepishly up at the waitress who smiled, nodding as she scribbled the order onto her pad of paper.  
Romeo continued to smile at him as the waitress disappeared, taking their menus and the only serious barrier Lovino had hoped to hide behind.  
“There’s no need to be nervous,” He said gently, slowly reaching across the table and gripping Lovino’s hand. Lovino tensed for a second, before forcing himself to relax and swallowed as he made eye contact with Romeo.  
“Sorry…” He said softly, flashing a plastic smile Romeo’s way, “First date…”  
“Really?” Romeo’s eyes flashed excitedly, gripping Lovino’s hand tighter, “They never mentioned that, that’s so cute!”  
Lovino bristled, wondering what else Grandpa may not have mentioned (no public displays of affection raunchy enough to draw a ton of attention? Sounds like something he might forget if the price was right…).  
“Anyway,” Romeo continued, “I’m honored to be the first one to take you out for a special evening… I hope it’s not our only evening together.” His finger began to trace patterns across Lovino’s and the boy had to force himself not to pull away.  
Lovino had always hoped someone else would take him out on his first date… maybe years earlier than this, grinning with a bright smile and shiny green eyes. Lovino wondered, would they have done something like this now? Sitting in some fancy restaurant, ordering dishes with fancy names no regular person had a prayer of being able to pronounce.  
“Cinny, tell me a bit about yourself huh?” Romeo asked, reaching out with his free hand to pluck a breadstick from the basket separating them, “What’s behind that dazzling smile I pay so much for?”  
Lovino’s eyebrow twitched. He wondered how much he should say…  
‘Oh it’s great, yeah, me and these three other boys have been stuck together since we were kids letting ugly old men like you do what you want to us. No, no we don’t keep the money you throw at our caretakers-I mean captors, but I’m sure you already knew that.’  
“Well… What do you want to know? There’s not much.”  
“There must be something,” Romeo chuckled, “What do you do in your spare time?”  
‘Curse God for sticking me in a situation like this, watch the only friends I’ve ever known slowly slip into the insanity I’m sure is going to kill us all one day.’  
“Read.”  
“What do you like to read?”  
‘A manual for how life should work. You’re arrest records would be fun too, I bet.’  
“Anything I can get my hands on. Grandpa usually buys me a new book to read when we move and I’ve slowly just built a collection over the years.” Lovino swallowed, “It’s mainly a lot of young adult novels, Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, you know the typical stuff. I’ve got a few others, like Sherlock Holmes and Alice in Wonderland mixed in too you know.”  
Romeo nodded, retracting his hand to lift a water glass to his lips.  
“Fascinating,” He sighed after he’d swallowed, “How long have you worked for Grandpa?”  
‘”Worked” isn’t exactly what I’d call it.’  
“A long time…” Lovino said, glancing towards the floral arrangement of their center piece, “I think… nine years? Maybe longer…”  
“That’s quite interesting,” Romeo licked his lips, “I don’t know if I could stick with anything for nine years, I’m too much of a free spirit as they say.”  
Lovino nodded and Romeo began to speak about himself, going on and on about the latest company he’d begun working for as an ad designer. He recounted stories from his college days, something he assured Lovino hadn’t been very long ago, about his school mates and the things he’d been involved with there. Eventually, as the food arrived and they began to dig in, Romeo worked his way back to his childhood, talking about the two older brothers he’d had and didn’t like.  
“Complete bastards, the both of them,” He huffed between bites of pasta, “They thought they were so special with their sports trophies and school ribbons, and yet who’s the one signed on with a company on the verge of going national?”  
As he spoke, Lovino found his throat growing tighter and tighter, almost to the point where swallowing became an impossibility and he sipped water as his eyes began to burn.  
Romeo’s stories, about playing pranks on the dean of his dorm or tagging the garage door of a grumpy neighbor, things he’d experienced and cherished enough to present as his life’s story… they were all things Lovino had not done. He’d never had a mother to rub his back while he was sick, he’d never had a sleepover in his living room, where all he did was watching scary, probably R-rated films with bowls of popcorn in blanket tents alongside friends.  
Whenever he was reminded of these things, usually as he watched other people around him when he was allowed outside, or now as Romeo talked on and on, Lovino couldn’t help but feel cheated. He wanted to go to school, he wanted to earn a detention by being unruly in the classroom, he wanted that sick day where your parents doted on you morning and night and your siblings got jealous because you got to stay home and they didn’t. Lovino used to have a little brother (younger by about two minutes Lovino reminded himself), an airhead if he remembered correctly, but a cute airhead. He hadn’t thought about him in ages, and the memories were dusted and faded now.  
He wondered if this little brother he struggled to remember, probably because it hurt too much, remembered him. He’d heard somewhere, that if you remember a person they remember you, and he wondered if that held true for thirteen year long absences.  
“Cinny?”  
Romeo’s bored, patronizing tone snapped Lovino from his thoughts and he looked up to Romeo, who had an annoyed look on his face.  
“Am I boring you?” He sighed, watching his finger as it traced the rim of his glass.  
“N-no…” Lovino swallowed, “Sorry… keep going.”  
Romeo smirked childishly and leaned back in his chair, “I would, but then we’d be late.”  
“Late?”  
“I thought we could see a movie together. You know, something interesting but not to interesting to keep us from… other things.”  
Lovino internally sighed and, with a glance to his half-eaten plate, nodded, “That sounds like fun.”  
“Great!” Romeo’s face brightened and he jumped up, throwing a lot of bills onto the table and taking Lovino by the hand towards the door.  
The theater was maybe a block away, and Romeo insisted they walk all the way there with their arms intertwined and Lovino’s head on his shoulder. Lovino complied, if only because he spotted Gerhalt slowly following them from his car.  
The theater was, as with everything else around here, impressive and immaculate in its own way. The film Romeo chose was something cheesy and painfully dull, Lovino found romance movies unrealistic and frankly, idiotic. Real life was not that simple, or beautiful, or wonderful. Real life was painful, gritty, and often bloody or at the very least scarring. If anything, he was insulted as the two main characters finally seemed to fall hopelessly in love with each other.   
All the while Romeo had his head pressed against Lovino’s, breath hot against his neck and his hands wandered over the boy’s chest as the darkened theater’s attention was captured by the silver screen. Lovino forced himself to be quiet, not to make a noise as Romeo toyed with him.  
As the credits finally rolled Lovino released a breath as the house lights lit and Romeo’s hands withdrew from under his shirt.  
Romeo sighed, checking his wristwatch and as they stood he drapped an arm around Lovino.  
“It’s too bad I have to take you back huh? If we’d had the time I would have taken you back to my place for a little fun.” He said and Lovino swallowed, smiling placidly in his client’s direction.  
Gerhalt’s car was sitting right outside the theater, and with a nod to Romeo he peeled off from the curbside and made his way lazily down the street while Romeo and Lovino walked towards their car. The ride was silent, Romeo humming along softly to the radio and Lovino watching the outside slip by. The neighborhood was dark, the streetlamps flicking on one by one as the sun dipped below the horizon.  
Gerhalt’s car was slowly moving behind them, and when they entered the street the house sat on he sped up, pulling ahead of the car and slipping into the drive. Romeo seemed to slow as Gerhalt got out of the car, reaching over to squeeze Lovino’s hand.  
“I’m gonna miss you Cinny,” He sighed, “I haven’t had this much fun in awhile.”  
Lovino sighed, finding himself glad he was back home. It wasn’t possible to get out of the car fast enough, and yet despite that Romeo still captured him in his arms and walked with Lovino to the front door.  
“Are you going to miss me Cinny?” He asked, smiling brightly.  
“S-sure…” Lovino muttered, staring ahead at the base of Romeo’s neck.  
“I hope so,” Romeo pouted, leaning down and pressing his lips hard against Lovino’s. Lovino felt himself seize up, not expecting it. Romeo pressed harder, biting at Lovino’s bottom lip, inviting him to kiss back. Lovino only did as he felt himself slip to auto-pilot. Romeo’s hands began to wander and Lovino began to wonder how far the man was willing to go on the house’s front step.  
But all to soon the kiss broke and Lovino was left sucking in breathe as Romeo chuckled, reaching into his pocket.  
“Thank you for such an amazing night.” He smiled, withdrawing a simple gold chain and reaching behind Lovino. Lovino swallowed, feeling the weight of the chain settle around him and slowly reached up to run his fingers along the smooth links. Romeo grinned above him, admiring the view a little before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to Lovino’s forehead.  
It was at that moment that the door flew open and Grandpa was standing there looking cheery but a bit impatient.  
“What’s with the long goodbye? He’ll still be here tomorrow Romeo!” Grandpa laughed.  
“Sorry,” Romeo said, rubbing the back of his neck and taking a step towards the car, “Well, I guess I’ll just be going then.”  
“Night!” Grandpa waved as Romeo’s form retreated into the night. Lovino quickly stepped past him, feeling his face go red as Grandpa looked him over.  
“I guess it went well then,” Grandpa stated, closing the door and following Lovino upstairs, “He seemed very satisfied.”  
“Yeah…” Lovino nodded, reaching back to fumble with the clasp of the chain. Grandpa noticed and stepped up to help, easily slipping the necklace from Lovino’s neck and holding it up.  
“Ooh, this is nice,” Grandpa appraised the item, “He must have spent a good deal on this-we’ll have to make sure you’re wearing it when he comes back.”  
Lovino nodded, staring at anything but the chain that came from him. He was glad to see it slip into Grandpa’s pocket, where he didn’t have to see it, before he was sent to take a shower.  
~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~  
It seemed like a week just flew for Antonio. In no time at all he was packing a back with clothes, sunscreen, extra clothes, and sandals. He slung his guitar case across his back and shouted several times for Feliciano to hurry up, threatening to leave him should he take any longer.  
Feliciano, ever the scatterbrain, still managed to find at least three different reasons to make Antonio stop just a yard or two down the street to run back inside the apartment for forgotten items. They were late picking Emma up as a result, Lars standing in the door wishing her well as he shot threatening scowls towards the boys.  
The drive was pleasant enough, Emma and Feliciano a constant source of chatter over the pop music that played in the background, Antonio interjecting with his own stories and laughter. They stopped twice, once for a bathroom and then to get gas, before finally pulling up to a sandy beach with crashing waves and a warm, comforting breeze. Other people were already there, soaking in the sun’s rays as they laid themselves out on beach towels or skittered about playing in the water. Kids zoomed past here and there, shouting and laughing while their parents dozed under beach umbrellas and teenagers paired off in couples to walk along the beach holding hands.  
Antonio felt a twinge of jealousy, imagining doing that with some nice boy… a rather specific boy mind. They’d curl their fingers around each other’s, maybe lean against one another as they walked aimlessly. Maybe they’d be talking, maybe just silently enjoying each other’s company; both sounded good to him.  
Feliciano hurried past, Emma close on his heels, carrying most of their things. Picking a spot not to far away from the water but still within sight of the car, he flung a towel across the sand and weighed it down with the cooler and other beach items.  
“Look at the sky!” Feliciano exclaimed as Antonio hurried to catch up, “There’s not a cloud for miles!”  
“I think I see some ships on the horizon!” Emma cried, pointing towards the ocean, where indeed you could make out boats sailing far off in the distance. Antonio smirked, sitting down on the towel and stretching out. It was warm enough for a nap, and he couldn’t help but start to close his eyes when Feliciano prodded him in the side with his shoe.  
“Hey! Don’t sleep yet! We just got here!”  
“But it’s so nice!” Antonio groaned, stretching and pinning his hands behind his head.  
“Exactly! Let’s play Frisbee or something!”  
“Yeah!” Emma agreed, digging the green disc out of one of the bags, “Feli! Go long!”  
“I got it!”  
Feliciano did not, however, have anything, as the Frisbee soared mightily over his head and away down the beach. Feli shrieked in surprise and chased after, sprinting as fast as he could through the sand after the white disc as it sped further and further away.  
Antonio felt his stomach begin to sink when the Frisbee thwacked another beach goer in the head, flopping to the ground lifelessly as the man lurched forwards a bit with the impact of the hit. Feliciano hurried towards them, waving his arms and screaming apologies as Emma and Antonio hurried after. They’d just gotten here, were they going to be forced to leave now due to some unforeseen accident?  
But the other beach goer didn’t even look all that mad when he turned around, instead he grinned and laughed as Feliciano stammered out excuses and apologies, begging the other guy to not hurt him as he rambled on and on.  
“It’s alright, it’s alright,” The guy laughed, waving a hand in Feliciano’s direction, the other rubbing the sore spot on his head, “I suppose I deserve it with how many times I’ve done that to other people.”   
“So… you’re not mad?” Feliciano whimpered.  
“Not at all.”  
“Hurray!” Feliciano hopped towards the man, hugging him tight as Antonio tried to pry him off.  
“Sorry… he’s just passionate.” Antonio chuckled, wrenching the man free and landing Feliciano in the sand.  
“It’s cute,” The man laughed, leaning down to pick the Frisbee up and hand it to Antonio, “I don’t mind.”  
Antonio wondered if he were perhaps looking at a God, with how golden tan the skin covering toned muscles shined with drying seawater. Deep, glittery eyes grinned back at him and pearly white teeth peeked out here and there as the man continued talking.  
Then he paused, and Antonio scrambled to pull himself back to reality.  
“Of course we’ll come,” Emma was saying, elbowing Antonio in the ribs, nearly driving the breath from him.  
“Y… yeah…”  
The man giggled, turning to lead them towards his friends.  
“Name’s Alphonso by the way,” he said, looking exclusively at Antonio, “In case you didn’t hear me the frist time.”  
Antonio could have sworn there was a wink from golden skinned Alphonso, and as they neared a group of other kids about their age Emma gave a small squeal when Alphonso was busy greeting his friends, Feliciano running forward to introduce himself.  
“What?” Antonio asked, looking around for the source of her sudden excitement.  
“He likes you!” Emma gushed, glancing sideways where the tall, dark brunette stood among his friends.  
“Nah,” Antonio grinned, shaking his head.  
“No! Seriously! The way he’s looking at you… he’s not looking at anyone else like that.”  
Antonio frowned, chancing a glance in Alphonso’s direction before quickly snapping his eyes back to Emma, looking a bit surprised.  
Emma grinned even wider, watching Antonio’s cheeks flush in embarrassment and she swatted him lightly on the shoulder.  
“Of course he goes for you-they all do in the end!” She snickered just as Feliciano approached.  
“What?” He frowned, looking between his friends.  
“Alphonso likes Antonio!” Emma giggled.  
Feliciano didn’t even bother trying to be covert as he looked between his roommate and the guy they’d just met. He fixed Antonio with a dry, tired look and said flatly,  
“Oh yeah, he wants you.”  
“No! No way, he’s probably just friendly.” Antonio laughed as Feliciano pointed at him.  
“Look at me,” He said, using his hands to direct Antonio’s gaze to his face, “I hate you. Now stop lying to yourself and go snap him up before I do.”  
“Feli…” Antonio snickered just as some of Alphonso’s friends approached and the conversation was smothered by the proposition to go swimming. Antonio kept shooting nervous glances in Alphonso’s direction, feeling an odd, excited twist in his stomach as he did.  
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The day continued on with the two groups of friends merging together to enjoy the day in each other’s company. There were volleyball games, races through the sand, and a swimming contest that ended with two of its contestants so far on the other side of the beach from the finish line it was a wonder what they’d believed the instructions to be. Alphono’s friends were just as friendly, if not more, than he was; happy to have new people around to tease and joke with, snapping pictures to send as they bragged about the “hotties” they met up with on the beach.  
They now sat around a large campfire, which had nearly gotten Antonio and Alphonso burned in the process of igniting as they were too busy distracting each other with jokes and conversation. The others had found this incredibly amusing, teasing the two of them for the better part of an hour before Feliciano managed to conquer the conversation with stories of his own about Antonio’s clumsiness.  
Feliciano continued to excitedly prattle on, keeping the gathered group’s attention as his hands swung to and fro as he spoke. Antonio only barely managed to tear himself away from the boy’s attention spell as he noticed the sun beginning to dip in the sky.  
Quickly, without much warning, he stood and muttered he’d be right back to the few who noticed. He was intensely aware of Alphonso watching him walk farther and farther away from the group. He ended up slowing as the surrounding people became fewer and fewer, until finally he was virtually alone as he watched the sun set.  
It was here he took a moment to imagine someone else pressed against his body, their hands entertwined and Antonio’s chin resting on a well-kept crop of wavy auburn hair. Antonio figured the boy in his head would be about his twin’s height, as he always had been while he had been while growing up. Maybe he’d be shorter though, as is common with siblings and Antonio snickered at the idea of Feliciano being the taller of the two, considering how much he looked up to his brother.  
Antonio didn’t think about him often, finding it painful to the point he couldn’t move or breathe sometimes, but moments like this, imagining how they’d be spending their time watching a sunset together like this, were moments he lived for. He felt closer to the boy he’d lost so many years ago in a way, like he hadn’t lost him at all and if he’d just look maybe a little to his left or right he’d see him standing right there.  
Perhaps, if he’d accompanied Antonio on this trip alongside his brother and Emma, he and Antonio would have split off from the group. Perhaps they would have snuck away to some shore side restaurant for a romantic date alone before returning to the others, tight lipped about where they’d gone just to torment their friends. Antonio wondered if any story he or his lost significant other would be as creative as something Emma or Feliciano could dream up, if perhaps they could goad the two into a contest of absurdity with what Antonio may or may not have done with the boy he loved.  
“Lonely?”  
Antonio turned to see Alphonso approaching, looking a bit sheepish in the orange light of the setting sun. Antonio turned back to watch the water swallow the light, barely registering the other man as he came to stand beside him.  
“It’s beautiful.” Alphonso said, “I can see why someone would drop everything just to come witness it.”  
Antonio nodded, flexing his toes in the sand as they stood there. Alphonso seemed completely at ease standing there, enjoying the relative white noise of waves crashing and seagulls squawking. Antonio however, found it a bit hard to resume his imaginings of a simple walk on the beach with an auburn haired boy. Eventually, feeling as if the moment were spoiled by the intrusion, Antonio glanced back the way they’d come intending to go.  
“Heading back?” Alphonso asked, sounding confused, “Sun’s not even completely gone yet.”  
“Well, I accomplished what I came out here to do… so I figured I’d head back.”  
“Must be something really special if you have to be alone.” Alphonso grinned.  
“Yeah…” Antonio shrugged, “Kinda a private thing I’ve taken to doing… see, I don’t really visit the beach often,” Antonio said, staring up at the darkening sky, “It’s a bit of a treat I guess-something I want to make into a special memory each time.”  
Alphonso smirked, “And they call me a hopeless romantic.”  
“Do they?”  
Alphonso worldeslly stepped forward, arms coming up to trap Antonio where he stood and a hand was trailing through his hair.  
“Not really… but… I have my moments,” Alphonso leaned in, and Antonio had seconds before a pair of firm lips were pressed against his.  
The moment was perfect between them, a sandy beach under their bare feet, a warm breeze to wrap around the pair as Antonio’s eyes slipped closed, enjoying the moment of surprise bliss as guitar music floated over from the previously forgotten campfire.  
But then, almost painfully, Antonio withdrew. He looked almost torn, and kept his head bowed in what could be taken as either embarrassment or shame.  
“I… I’m sorry…” He said softly, allowing Alphonso’s hands to remain on his arms, “I’m so sorry…”  
“Someone else?” Alphonso asked gently, thumbs rubbing circular motions into Antonio’s upper arms.  
“I’m so sorry…” Antonio whispered again, “I can’t let go yet…”  
There was a soft chuckle and the hands withdrew as Alphonso stepped back, “Just my luck you know, I find a hot Spanish dude and he’s already taken. Promise you won’t tell your boyfriend alright? I don’t need any black eyes or something okay.”  
“Oh… well… he’s not my boyfriend per se…” Antonio admitted, and as he spoke he wondered what had induced such a motor mouth, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I… I haven’t even seen him in years, but… but I can’t forget him.”  
Alphonso chuckled again, but it wasn’t mocking or exasperated like all the times before when Antonio had admitted he was in love with a boy he barely remembered. Instead he was pulled into another embrace, this time meant to be comforting more than anything.  
“That’s the sappiest, sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” Alphonso chuckled into Antonio’s ear before pulling away and taking Antonio’s hand, “At least walk back with me? Let my friends think I haven’t struck out nearly as bad as I have?”  
Antonio grinned, “Of course.”  
“Of course.”  
Turning to go the way they’d come, the sound of clumsy guitar plucking and the ever growing light of the campfire were their beacons. When they finally did approach their friends, Alphonso’s wolf whistled and the two couldn’t help but break into embarrassed chuckles as they sat down on opposite sides of the campfire.  
The group eventually died back down into idle conversation and minor chuckles, the fire burning low before someone stood up to announce they were going to bed. The proverbial dam broken, everyone else followed after one by one, with Alphonso turning back on his way to his van to send Antonio one last heated look.  
As Antonio crawled through the entryway into his tent, Feliciano was sitting there waiting for him with a small grin on his face.  
“So?” He asked, leaning forward to shake his shoe free of sand just outside the tent.  
“What?”  
“How’d it go? With Alphonso!” He giggled, “Was it really as heated as that one kid with all the hair dye was making it out to be?”  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Antonio said, shrugging, “All we did was walk out a few yards and then walk back.”  
“Lies! You were holding hands!”  
“Yeah… but that’s it.”  
“Antonio!” Feliciano groaned, flopping back onto his sleeping bag, “You need to find yourself a man!”  
“I just haven’t found the right one…” Antonio muttered, looking downtrodden.  
Feliciano was quiet, staring up at the roof of the tent before lowly muttering, “Don’t you mean you haven’t re-found the right one?”  
Antonio flinched.  
“Feli… I-“  
“You can talk about it, it’s okay.” Feliciano said, sitting up, “You knew him too-probably almost better than anybody.”  
“I doubt childhood sweethearts trumps twins.” Antonio muttered, a small grin appearing on his face.  
“Well it comes close I bet,” Feliciano muttered, picking at an imaginary thread on his shirt sleeve, “Anyway, it’s alright. I won’t go to pieces if you say his name-I’m stronger than that.”  
Antonio sighed, sounding more exhausted than a mere lack of sleep could allow, “Feli… I… I just can’t let go of him. It’s been thirteen years and I still picture his smile whenever I need a pick me up, or the way he’d yell at everything and it’d be the cutest thing you’d ever seen. I knew I liked boys then… Lovino helped me discover that.”  
Feliciano was quiet for a long time, not meeting Antonio’s gaze and one had to wonder if he’d overdone it with that little spiel.  
“I still think about how he’d terrorize our parents whenever he was ‘on one’ as they would say. It’d be hilarious, you wouldn’t think a nine year old would come up with the material he did.”  
Antonio swallowed, “I’ve looked for someone else-believe me, I’ve been to hundreds of bars, beach hangouts, I even perused a few dating sites… but no one could compare to this kid I’d hangout with on the weekends and buy ice cream with in the summer.”  
“Not even Alphonso?” Feliciano smirked.  
“Not even Alphonso.” Antonio laughed, flopping into his sleeping bag and bundling himself up tight.  
Feliciano did the same, reaching over to turn the camper lantern off and plunging the tent into darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

“Ah! It’s nice to see you again Kevin!” Grandpa chuckled, opening the door wide for the client.  
Kevin Jameson smiled, following Grandpa through the house, “Well, what can I say? Blondie’s just grown on me…”  
“Well you’ve certainly left yourself on him… several times actually.” Grandpa remarked, “Please be a bit more careful with the clientele sir, any serious damage and I’d have to refuse service.”  
“I know when to stop, don’t worry.” Kevin said snidely, brushing past Grandpa to the door leading to the Room, where on the other side sat Mattie. The boy looked up at the intrusion, face growing a shade or two paler when he saw just who his client was for the day.  
“Now, play nice boys.” Grandpa smiled, reaching out to take the doorhandle as Kevin approached, slowly shedding his suit jacket. He closed the door just as Kevin reached the bed, towering over Mattie whose eyes had gone wide.  
Grandpa turned to make his way back into the kitchen. Sitting in the living room, Ludwig and Ivan entertained their own clients. Ludwig sat off to the side with a very still Wendy, Peter sitting alone on the other side of the couch with his knees drawn up and his arms wrapped tightly to his chest. Neither had spoken a word, as far as the old man knew, since being let out of the closet this morning and it didn’t look like that was about to change. He had to admit, it was a nice change compared to their normal loudness, ranging from snapping to screaming, the two were the most ungrateful brats Grandpa had ever seen-and he’d seen a lot of brats in his day.  
The General and Gerhalt sat at the dining table, notebooks open in front of the both of them and calculators clicking away as the General ran numbers upon numbers upon numbers of things ranging from finances to averages to number of clients in the past month. He had a grim look on his face, one that could almost rival the sour look Gerhalt perpetually wore.  
“What’s the matter?” Grandpa laughed, plopping down in a chair and leaning forward across the table, “Get your numbers muddled?”  
“No… but Grandpa…” The General sighed, leaning forward and propping his chin into his elbow.  
Somehow Grandpa just knew what was coming and he internally cringed in the few seconds that came before the General said, “I know we’ve tried to talk about this before-“  
“Are we really doing this now?” Grandpa frowned, “During business hours?”  
“Seems like a good a time as any,” Gerhalt said, shoving a notebook towards Grandpa, “The numbers don’t lie man, Lovino especially is getting to old for some of the clients. Our regular’s visits for this area are declining fast, and not many of our targeted clientele are gonna get all hot and bothered for a sarcastic eighteen year old.”  
“An experienced sarcastic eighteen year old.”  
“Experience doesn’t count for crap when they won’t even look at you.”  
Grandpa grit his teeth, fingers twisting his hair painfully, “What would we even do?”  
“Well…” the General began, opening his mouth to suggest something but Gerhalt beat him to it.  
“We don’t have to take him with us on the next move.”  
“But what if he points out where we’re headed? Or is able to give the cops something leading to Wendy and Peter?” the General pointed out, “He knows our faces. Probably better just to silence him all together.”  
“Woah, woah,” Grandpa said, “Guys! Really? We’re not murderers!”  
“What do you suggest then?” Gerhalt snapped.  
“How about we just sell him? He’s got to fit someone’s tastes.” Grandpa said.  
“Like yours?”  
“Not quite,” Grandpa sighed, “Besides if I’m the only one playing with him, then how is he helping the family?”  
Gerhalt tapped his chin, “I suppose I could look through our clients, ask around and see if anyone would be interested.”  
“See? No need to dirty our hands with the boy’s blood!” Grandpa chuckled, “But keep the idea that he’s for sale under wraps until we find someone suitable.”  
“You mean someone who won’t kill him?” the General asked.  
Grandpa shrugged, “My darling grandbaby is a special thing after all. What kind of a grandfather would I be if I let him die at the hands of some two-bit, crack-addicted, boorish thug?”  
“What kind of a grandfather introduces his grandson to the sex industry anyway?” Gerhalt pointed out dryly.  
“You have no room to talk.” Grandpa laughed.  
“I introduced him by bringing him here; I didn’t follow your methods.”  
Grandpa rolled his eyes, “Don’t act all special, and wipe that look off your face we have company.”  
“He can’t see me, he’s busy.” Gerhalt said, referring to the noises coming from the Room. There was a shriek, a cackle, and a rather loud thud against the wall. The other clients in the living room paid the noises little mind, preferring to enjoy the pleasures they’d paid for while the three caretakers looked between each other, Gerhalt failing to contain a very self-satisfied smirk.  
“I wonder how much we could get for Lovi…” the General said, returning to their conversation as he looked over the notebook with Lovino’s records, “He is experienced, and if the buyer really likes him maybe we can tweak whatever price we set for him.”  
“It needs to be enough that his loss won’t be missed.” Grandpa said.  
“You’ll miss him no matter what price we set,” Gerhalt said, “I won’t miss though, always acting better than everyone else… he knows you favor him Grandpa. He uses it against us.”  
“Oh please,” Grandpa said, waving a hand, “I let him have a little leeway to remind him I love him, the first time he crosses me it’s all over.”  
“And what if that one time is all he needs to seriously screw everything?”  
Grandpa sighed, choosing not to answer and instead get up from his seat, striding to the door of the Room as he heard the sounds within die down. He walked in on Kevin shrugging his coat over his shoulders with a relaxed grin. He rubbed at raw and slightly bloody knuckles, smearing the half-dried blood a bit as he did so.  
“All done for today?” Grandpa asked casually.  
“I figured he’d miss me more if it was a quick visit.” Kevin shrugged, casting a backwards glance at Mattie, who lay on the other side of the bed, motionless.  
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“Look, I get I made a mistake okay?” Carlos snapped, trying to walk away as Alfred grabbed him roughly by the arm, “Will you just lay off?”  
“I can’t!” Alfred cried, pushing Carlos against the bricks of the empty hallway, “I can’t man!”  
“Get off me dude.”  
“Look,” Alfred sighed, as if needing to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to say, “I need you to take me to that lake house or whatever that your cousin took you to.”  
There was a beat of silence or two before Carlos’ eyes grew wide and he shoved Alfred back.  
“What?” He snarled, “Are you insane? I get it, it wasn’t you! Sorry! But what do you need to go there for?”  
Alfred swallowed, stepping back from Carlos and fixing his eyes on a point near the ground.  
“I think… I think you saw my brother.”  
“What?” Carlos snorted, “You practicing to audition for the drama club or something? Because you’re gonna need new material-“  
“Look!” Alfred barked, “I’m being serious! I think you saw my brother.”  
“This mysterious brother, what’s he doing letting older men stick their-“  
“Don’t,” Alfred said, looking sick, “Just… dude… please.”  
Carlos arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms, “Are you serious?”  
“More than I’ve ever been.” Alfred looked torn, a vulnerable side Carlos had never seen displayed through his eyes, “You saw my brother there. You had to, to think it was me.”  
“Identical twins, or…?”  
Alfred shrugged, “Look, you know it’s no secret I’m adopted right?”  
“Right…”  
“And a lot of people don’t remember this, but it wasn’t just me that my folks took in, it was my brother-I like to think he’s my little brother but for all I know we could be twins. Our… mom wasn’t very good at remembering to include those details when she dumped us at this church when we were like three… a-anyway, Matt disappeared maybe a month or two before you moved into the neighborhood. I… I think you saw him that night. That picture you probably thought was me before first grade is him, it’s one of the few Pop can bear to keep up around the house these days.”  
Carlos’ angry glower had slowly melted to a heartbroken sigh and he chewed a bit on his lip, letting the silence linger between them.  
“And if it wasn’t him?”  
“Then I’ll at least know!” Alfred said, “I’ll know it wasn’t my brother… and he’s not doing those things… or being forced to do those things, you know?” He sighed again, “I can’t ask anyone else to help me with this man, I don’t want to tell the cops ‘cause then there’s a chance Mattie might run, and I don’t want to tell my parents because I can’t cause them all that pain again. I… I thought they might even split up for a while because of what happened!”  
“And if it is him, you think just dragging him back here is possible?”  
Alfred gave Carlos a very feebly grin, “There’s always hope right?”  
Carlos groaned, slapping hand to his forehead before giving a small nod, “Fine… but we leave at the first sign of trouble, no need for us to disappear too.”  
Alfred’s face lit up and he clobbered Carlos, squeezing his arms tight around him.  
“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!” He cried tearing down the hall as the warning bell rang for class.  
“Alfred!”  
Alfred turned sharply, nearling knocking two freshmen to the ground.  
Carlos was staring at him with a sheepish, almost embarrassed grin.  
“I’m not a complete douchebag, you know.”  
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It seemed amazing to everybody, how Theodore stood in Grandpa’s living room smiling warmly at Ludwig, who tugged anxiously at his shirt sleeve while the old men’s eyes appraised the shorts he’d been given to wear.  
“I think we got off on a bad foot you know,” Theodore said gently, reaching out to run large fingers across Ludwig’s jaw, “But I’m a firm believer in second chances.  
From behind Theodore, Grandpa had fixed Ludwig with a look, one that promised punishment unless he pulled this job off with flying colors.  
Smiling sweetly at his new regular, Ludwig reaching up to grip the fingers that lingered hesitantly around his jaw, resting his head in the palm and allowing the man to feel his hair. Theodore raised an eyebrow, surprised at how willing Ludwig was for once, a complete turnaround to his usual cold and shy nature.  
“I missed you…” Ludwig said, biting his lower lip with his front teeth and watching Theoore through half-lidded eyes.  
A slow smile slipped over Theodore’s face, and the satisfied look adorning Grandpa’s released some sort of stress knot that had been twisting Ludwig’s stomach for as long as he could remember.


	18. Chapter 18

As school let out for the day, Kiku could be found considering rewatching Attack on Titan, probably the English dub just so he could say he experienced it, when Alfred appeared out of nowhere in a sidehall leading to the parking lot and promptly clobbered the little otaku. Kiku jumped in surprise, Alfred cackling that he’d managed to get the drop on him (again).

“What are you doing here Alfred?” Kiku frowned, “This isn’t the way to your car is it?”

“I walk dude,” Alfred said, leading his shorter friend in the direction of the school doors, “But it is the way to Carlos’ car.”

“Carlos?” Kiku frowned, before squirming his way out of Alfred’s arm and fixing him with a suspicious glare, “What are you planning to do with Carlos’ car?”

“Nothing, I swear!” Alfred said quickly, a bit to quickly for Kiku’s taste, “He offered to drive me… and we need your help.”

“To drive?”

“No, with where we’re going.”

“Where are we going, Alfred?”

Alfred looked a bit uneasy, sheepishly staring at the doors like a child ready for a scolding.

“We’re… going to go see my brother.”

Kiku was silent for a moment, frowning as he tried to think about Alfred ever mentioning having a brother.

“Mattie?” He tried after a moment of recollection. Alfred winced at the name but nodded, shifting his weight back and forth as he did so.

“Carlos says he saw him… well technically he said he saw me but I put the pieces together… anyway-“

“Shouldn’t you be telling your dads about this?”

Alfred guiltily stared down at his feet, “Well I don’t _know for sure_ if it’s Mattie… I want to make sure before I say anything.”

“You want to rescue him.”

“I want to try!” Alfred cried.

“Alfred, no.” Kiku sighed, “That’s stupid and dangerous-what if we don’t come home? What’ll your parents do then?”

“I just want to see if it’s him. I promise not to do anything stupid.”

“Alfred…” Kiku groaned, “Why do you need my help?”

“Because I don’t like Carlos, the more the merrier and less likely to kill someone.” Alfred grinned, “Not to mention, you’re smart. I need smart people for this.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult to my intelligence?” Carlos asked, approaching from their side. Alfred rolled his eyes but Carlos grinned, opening the door leading to the parking lot and waving them forward, “Let’s go friends, we don’t have all day.”

“Pardon my forwardness,” Kiku said as he and Alfred followed Carlos to his car, “But isn’t this a really bad idea? How can you guys go along with it.”

“Well, if we’re just going to look around, I don’t see the harm.” Carlos shrugged, “Make sure it’s really him before sending the cops on a wild goose chase, you know?”

Kiku sighed, “It’s dangerous.”

“So are a lot of other things people deem a good idea.” Alfred argued, “We’ll be there and back before anyone notices-and then first thing tomorrow we’re going to the police station.”

“Or Thailand!” Kiku cried.

“Either way, we’re going somewhere.” Carlos quipped, getting in and starting the car, “Now hurry up.”

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The drive down wasn’t as horrible as everyone feared. Alfred and Carlos, through sheer willpower, managed to get along rather well. Alfred mainly talked to Carlos about sports, their eminent math exam that loomed like a sentence to the gallows, and mentioned once or twice their favorite animals. Kiku remained silent in the back, alternating between surfing the web and texting his father vaguely about why he wasn’t home already.

It wasn’t long before they approached a small community, lined with clean-cut shops and sidewalks. They’d reached the small town Destino, home of the Lake Destino where nearly anyone who was anyone visited on and off in the summers. In the fall, like now, it became more of a partier venue, with nothing to stop wild college student like behavior considering all (if not most of) the little kiddies were gone. Everyone left behind worked in Destino, or just wanted to live by the lake full time.

The homes surrounding the lake were all the same, cookie-cutter printouts of one another varying in colors and cars parked outside. Women and men jogged alongside the car here and there, one or two with a dog. Carlos pursed his lips in concentration, scanning the houses for familiarity before finally he pointed at one house in particular.

“There it is.” He said.

The house was a large vacation house, something cream and white and boasting of pleasure on it’s inside. Cars lined the sidewalk around it, none daring to rest in the parking lot where two slightly dilapidated vehicles sat alone. Lights pulsed and changed color inside the windows, a faint beat of music pumping through the walls.

“This is the place?” Alfred asked, leaning against the car window.

“Yep,” Carlos nodded, looking for a place to park, “Although I swear it was even more packed last time.”

They ended up parking a ways down from the house, Carlos pausing as his fingers hovered over the keys.

“What are you waiting for dude?” Alfred frowned, looking around as people walked to and from along the sidewalk.

“Alfred,” Carlos sighed, turning to his longtime nemesis, “Maybe you should wait in the car.”

Alfred’s eyes flashed with rage and his lip curled in a ready sneer, “And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m worried you won’t want to leave when it’s time to go.” Carlos said evenly, “Or, what if they think you’re him? That could be problematic too you know.”

“I’m going in.”

“Alfred-“

“No, I’m going in.” And with that Alfred yanked the lock open on his door and stormed out, quickly making his way back towards the house.

“Let’s go.” Kiku sighed.

“First sign of trouble, got it?” Carlos said as he followed Kiku towards the house and after Alfred, “I don’t care if this guy is within snatching distance, first sign of trouble we are gone.”

“I get it,” Kiku said, “But you’re right, I’m worried about Alfred.”

Carlos rolled his eyes, looking annoyed, “I swear we’re all gonna end up in a sex ring.”

The door to the house was wide open, people filing in and out as music screamed into the night. There were people standing around the entryway, but none of them paid Alfred, Kiku, or Carlos any attention as they stepped inside. Kiku frowned, looking around to see if he could spot a bounced or something but there was no one. Just a bunch of young and old adults alike talking, dancing, or laughing. A group stood together in the corner, trading things to small for Kiku to make out properly while another couple sloppily made out nearby.

“Alright, I’ll start over there,” Alfred said, pointing towards the kitchen, “Carlos, work your way towards the backyard and Kiku head for the living room. See if you can see anything and then head for one of the others as quick as possible.”

“And if we see him?” Carlos asked dryly.

“Then stay near him and the other two will come to you.” Alfred responded with the same tone.

“Then?” Carlos prodded, but Alfred was already walking away, twisting around others and trying to blend with the crowd, “What. An. Idiot.”

“I have to agree.” Kiku sighed, turning for the living room.

“Be careful,” Was Carlos’ parting words.

The living room was packed, people standing in nearly every free space of floor or on the furniture. The source of the music was here, a large stereo system beating the air with it’s sound waves as people closer to the middle of the living room gyrated and danced to the beat. Kiku craned his neck and tried to look around, unfortunantly being as short as he was he didn’t get a perfect view. He edged towards a slowly forming opening to the only vacant leather chair in the room, standing before it and finding his view opened up just a bit more. It wasn’t a very different view, people were still talking, laughing, or gyrating to the music. A few people made eye contact with him and he swore he saw a small blonde patch of hair weave in between the legs of people on the other side of the room.

Then, Kiku saw _him._

He definitely looked like Alfred, except maybe a thinner, probably paler face, a tinier body that resembled more of a twig, and his hair was far to long and wavy. But beyond that, the two were identical in everything about their appearance.

Kiku looked around quickly to signal Alfred that he’d found him, but didn’t see his friend anywhere. Worried they could lose him, Kiku pulled out his phone and began snapping pictures. He mostly got a blonde head sitting near older men who’s hands probably shouldn’t have been where they were, a few odd looks at his phone or wide eyes at the realization. Only once, when one of the older men gave Alfred’s brother a particularly affectionate smile, did the boy turn in Kiku’s direction. The two of them were standing up from the couch Mattie had been sitting on, the man leading Mattie deeper into the crowd and Mattie happened to look in Kiku’s direction. Kiku wasn’t sure if Mattie actually saw him, but he could have sworn he saw the boy’s eyebrows quirk and perhaps it was because he realized he was being photographed?

Kiku tried to follow, but the flow of the crowd surged and he was instead thrown farther and farther away from Mattie and deeper into the opposite direction. He continued to snap pictures, trying to document as much as he could to show the others later. Only when he was sure he’d caught the eye of a large man with long blonde hair did he lower his phone, trying to once again melt into the crowd as some unassuming member of whatever was going on here.

However it looked to be to late, as the large man began to push past other members of the crowd in his direction. Kiku felt the pit of his stomach drop and he tried to escape through the narrow gaps between people but his arm was already trapped in the man’s grip.

He was certain he’d been seen taking pictures. Any moment now the phone would be torn from his pocket and he’d be the next picture on a missing person’s ad. The man was scary looking enough it wasn’t hard to believe he’d be the sort to slit another guy’s throat over a picture, it wasn’t hard to believe he’d probably do anything.

“We don’t welcome minors.” The man snarled, leading Kiku in the direction of the door, “Come back in a few years when you look like something our boys can actually work with.”

Kiku couldn’t help but let his lip curl back at that, but was unable to say anything as he was unceremoniously ejected from the premises. Not long after Alfred and Carlos reappeared, Alfred having to be dragged by an older gray-haired guy and dumped painfully onto the stone walkway.

“And stay out!” The blonde man snarled after the two, giving Kiku a freshly dirty look when he saw he was still there.

“Dammit!” Alfred cried as the door slammed, still sitting in a heap on the ground.

“Getup, you’re not doing yourself any favors.” Carlos sniffed, readjusting his letterman and rubbing what was probably a forming bruise.

“But how’re we going to get back in?” Alfred cried.

“Get back in?” Carlos hissed, “Are you insane?”

“Mat’s gotta be in there!”

“Alfred, do you remember what we agreed on before we even left school?” Carlos snarled, “We agreed we leave at the first sign of trouble-and that was it pal.”

“But I was sure it was him!” Alfred pleaded, “I didn’t even get that good a look! Please!”

“No. Now get in the car, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“Carlos!”

“Get in the car or I’m tying you to the roof.”

Alfred looked on the verge of either bursting into tears or exploding with rage, perhaps even both. But instead he let a high-pitched groan hiss from behind his teeth and cast a worried look back towards the house.

“Alfred…” Carlos groaned, “This is why I suggested you wait in the car or something-I knew the minute we got in the house you wouldn’t want to leave.”

“Well how could I?” Alfred cried, “That’s my brother in there! Letting those people… do those _things_ to him, and touch him, and… and who knows what else!”

“Well we’re not getting back in there anytime soon, so we might as well head home.” Carlos said, “My cousin said they’re not leaving anytime soon, we’ll just figure something else out.”

Alfred looked back at the house again, “But…”

“Dude, you’re gonna end up in his exact position, or dead. You’re not gonna help him at all if you go back in there.”

“I agree with Carlos…” Kiku muttered and received a look of utter betrayal from Alfred.

Carlos nodded in satisfaction, “And what the nerd says goes. You’re outvoted Alfred, sorry.”

“You guys are horrible!” Alfred shrieked, “You’re heartless! You’re monsters!” He stepped back, fists squeezed tight like he was ready to hit one of them and he rotated between snarling at the two, “You don’t care my brother is in there getting raped, you just want to get home before you get grounded for being all the way out here at night!”

He swallowed, rage coloring his cheeks and tears pricking his eyes.

“You don’t care!” He cried again before Carlos stepped forward and thwacked him across the back of his head.

“Just shut up.” He sighed, twisting Alfred’s arms behind his back and marching him down the street. Kiku followed behind, looking helpless and feeling twice as so. Alfred resisted every step of the way, trying to slip free but Carlos’ hold was too tight. When they reached the car Kiku fished in Carlos’ pocket and extracted the keys, opening the door so Alfred could be shoved inside. He shouted from inside the car to, banging his fists on the windows and making a complete show of himself.

Carlos sighed and leaned against the car, running his fingers through his dreadlocked hair before turning to look at Kiku, his face somehow pained and annoyed at the same time.

“Let’s just try to make it back without him taking a window out or something, right?”

“I guess.” Kiku sighed, opening the passenger side door and getting an earful of Alfred’s screams. As the drive began, neither in the front said a word, just allowed Alfred to scream himself hoarse. When that happened Alfred curled up in the backseat, quiet except for small gasps or whimpers here and there.

Eventually, Kiku could take no more of that either, and he turned in his seat and extracted his phone.

“Alfred,” He began cautiously. Alfred didn’t move, but Kiku thought he saw the glassy, tear-filled eyes flicker in his direction, “I didn’t get a chance to tell you before, but… I took pictures.”

The car was silent, Carlos looking a bit pale and Alfred going rigid. Then, in a burst of renewed energy, Alfred jumped to sitting up, snatching Kiku’s offered phone and flipping madly through the gallery. His eyes watered again and the tears began to pour harder, his hand reaching up to cover his mouth as Alfred looked upon his sibling for the first time in years.

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The clock in the kitchen was nearing one in the morning.

Yao felt his stomach twisting tighter and tighter, the anger squeezing at his insides lighting the rest of him aflame with fury.

Kiku had texted him to say he’d be late getting home. That was supposed to mean maybe an hour or two, right? Not all freaking day and night! If it hadn’t been for the vague, occasional text Yao would have called the station by now.

His phone vibrated before him on the kitchen table, sitting next to an ice-cold dinner waiting for it’s no-show diner.

**_Kiku Honda:_ ** _I’m outside, coming in_

At that moment Yao heard the door unlock and his son step inside. The gentle thud of his shoes being removed and tossed near the door followed, and when his son appeared Yao was both relieved and angrier than he’d probably ever been.

“Where have you been?” He snapped as a greeting.

Kiku pursed his lips, adopting this guilty expression telling Yao it hadn’t been anywhere decent.

“Where were you?” He repeated, leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm, “What’s kept you all day, huh?”

“Well…” Kiku swallowed, stepping closer to the table.

“Don’t move from that spot.” Yao snarled, pointing at the patch of floor Kiku had just abandoned, “Stand there and tell me where the hell you’ve been, and it better be good or you’re not seeing the light of day for a good solid while.”

Kiku groaned, “Look… I… I went with Alfred and Carlos to see if we could find Alfred’s brother.”

“Alfred? The Kirkland kid?” Yao frowned.

“Yeah… Carlos saw his brother last week, and we went to go make sure it was really him.”

“Was it?”

“I don’t know… we didn’t get close enough.” Kiku admitted, “I snapped pictures, but I don’t even know if they’re that good of quality.”

“Let me see.” Yao frowned. Kiku slipped the phone into his hand, albeit reluctantly, and stood waiting as his father opened the gallery and flipped through the recent photos.

“Were you at some party?” Yao frowned, “There’s a lot of people grinding on each other… a few of them look your age.”

“He’s the blonde one that looks like Alfred.” Kiku said, blushing a bit.

“I can see that… well, if that’s not his brother I’m the Maharishi.” Yao frowned, looking at his son, “Why do you have to go looking for him anyway?”

“Alfred said he disappeared when they were kids. And when Carlos saw him and thought he was Alfred, Alfred thought perhaps there was a chance Carlos saw his long lost brother.”

“So a kidnap victim?” Yao frowned, pointing to the pictures “What’s he doing here?”

“Carlos said it was some neighborhood sex house…” Kiku admitted slowly.

Yao’s face colored, eyes widening to the size of the dinner plates and the grip on Kiku’s phone could have cracked the casing.

“An illegal brothel… you went to an illegal… _have you no common sense?!_ Especially underage! Are you insane?”

“Alfred wanted to make sure it was him!” Kiku cried in defense-a weak one if he was true to himself.

“I don’t care if he just wanted to peek in the windows! You do not go near any kind of place like this- _ever!_ ” Yao cried, balled fists shaking, “My goodness Kiku, _do you remember nothing?!_ ”

“I didn’t want to… I don’t know what I was thinking…” Kiku wilted under Yao’s stare, “I’m sorry!”

“You were sorry then too!” Yao snarled before he could stop himself, “Don’t you dare do something so… so blatantly _stupid_ ever again, do you understand?”

“I understand.” Kiku swallowed.

Yao groaned, falling backwards into his chair at the table and leaning heavily onto his elbow. He ran a hand through his loose black hair and glanced once more at the photo. If he was honest with himself, he was sure he’d seen a picture or two of missing persons cases that looked similar to the kid in this picture. If Alfred’s brother really had disappeared when they were kids then maybe there was a file…

Wait. He already had a case.

But it wouldn’t hurt to look right?

“So… Alfred’s brother?” Yao waved the phone in his hand, “He disappeared?”

“Alfred says so.” Kiku, who’d sunk into his own chair before an ice-cold meal, “He says that one day Matthew just didn’t come home.”

“And they’re the same age?”

“About. Nobody really knows when they were born, Alfred’s parents let them pick a day for their birthday and that’s what they went by, but they should be about the same age.”

Yao sighed, “And you’re sure this is him?”

“Alfred looked at the pictures and thinks so, I’m not sure. Those pictures aren’t very good.”

Yao glanced at the phone again, “They’re decent enough. Sure there’s a blurred face or two in the background, but I can see Matthew properly. I bet with a few runs through some software we’d be able to extract what we need from this one picture.”

“What?”

Yao stood, pocketing the phone and reaching out to touch his son’s shoulder.

“I’ll give it to some guys I know, see if there’s anything we can make of it, and try and get the case reopened with another detective.”

Kiku sat there, mouth open like a fish.

“Don’t _ever_ do something so stupid again,” Yao warned, before smiling softly, “But good job. You may have just found Alfred’s long lost brother-and gotten the proof I need to do something about it.”

Kiku still sat there, stunned, and Yao chuckled. He turned to walk away but froze when Kiku finally spoke.

“So… you’re taking my phone?”

“I need it for evidence-but I was going to take it anyway considering you pretty much smashed curfew into pieces. You’re grounded, my little detective.” Yao grinned before disappearing upstairs.


	19. Chapter 19

Yao had to wonder if his son was going to implode soon. It had been a few days into the “no phone” regimen and the detective swore he saw a storm brewing inside his adopted child. Normally quiet and aloof, the silence took a much grimmer role as the boy was forced to go without his instant access to the internet, friends, and saved pictures of hot anime girls (Yao had done some perusing as a curious parent-he was currently trying to decide if he even wanted to ask his son about what he saw on there).  
The morning after Kiku had returned home from his “reconnaissance mission” with Alfred and Carlos, Yao had submitted the photos of this Matthew boy and flagged them top priority. He was still waiting to hear back from the lab, and tried to keep his head on his work to pass the time.  
But honestly, that was getting harder and harder. No new leads on either Peter or Wendy, and their parents were self-destructing faster than Kiku. It was as if the kids had just vanished into thin air, and they might as well have.  
Yao reasoned that if the kidnappers were still within the general vicinity, they’d have seen some sort of evidence to correlate this. Whether it be a tip from a few underground connections, evidence somewhere of a struggle, or an actual sighting of one or both the kids. With an entire district on the lookout, and it being a bit of a “close-knit” community as it was, Yao had hoped something would turn up by now.  
But no, whoever had snatched the two kids was obviously a professional. Yao had begun reaching out further than his own district, to neighboring towns and counties. The two had to be somewhere, and Yao would leave no stone unturned.  
Walking past a half-awake Officer Karpusi about to be kicked to consciousness by his partner Officer Adnan, Yao started another morning of dreary hopelessness with a cup of coffee in one hand and a large number of files in the other. Nodding a greeting that went unseen by the now bickering officers, he hurried to his office and quickly shut the door.  
Yao was using the excuse that he was taking a break as he sat down in his chair, looking over missing persons files not in any way related to his case. He reasoned that these cases, much like his own, ended the same way: the children disappearing into thin air and the trail going cold almost as soon as it was created.  
Matthew’s file was among them, and out of general curiosity it was the one he opened first. A large set of indigo eyes stared back at him, almost purple in the lighting of the picture. It was a school picture, probably fourth grade. Yao had to admit he was a cute nine year old, wavy blonde haired tumbling around a bright, smiling face, a tooth missing here and there across the top and bottom rows.  
The file read much like any other missing persons file. Matthew had been walking home alone, the report mentioning his brother had gone on without him. But why wasn’t clear, and the papers only went on to say that after months of combing every nook and cranny, the case had been classified cold and shelved as more relevant cases took it’s place.  
Yao sighed, looking over a few of the collected photos, mainly pictures of Matthew accompanied by age-progression stills and a general summary of the people involved: his two fathers, his brother, their neighbors and friends, no one out of the ordinary. An outline followed of Matthew’s routines, home, school, library, sometimes the park, back home, shopping with his father, more shopping with his other father-  
A knock at the door interrupted Yao’s reading. He looked up to see Officer Adnan standing in the door, holding an envelope.  
“Mail time boss,” He grinned, waving the manila envelope around, “Just came in, said you’d flagged them as important.”  
“That’s right.”  
Sadik handed the envelope to Yao, who was quick to open it, having to force himself to not carelessly tear it open like a kid on Christmas morning.  
Blown up photographs of Matthew at the party alongside age progression photos manipulated from his school photos were all it took to confirm what Kiku said. A stab of excitement hit Yao, and he had to keep from bouncing excitedly as he set the photo down. As he moved his fingers, he felt the paper give and frowned as he watched a second picture appear behind Matthew’s age progression still.  
It was a school picture of Peter, smiling obliviously up at him.  
“What the…” Yao turned back to the envelope, finding a report laying alone inside. Among the official science jargon, interlaced with fancy words and reassuringly “science-ey” things, Yao read that the lab had confirmed two (TWO!) subjects of interest within the photos.  
Matthew and Peter.  
“Sadik…” Yao said evenly, “Get Heracles and get in here-bring your notepads.”  
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Stepping across the threshold of his home, Arthur heaved a sigh as he used his body to shut the front door. Alfred had just been dropped off at school, still stormy and sullen and not at all the Alfred Arthur clung to in his memories, and Francis may have left for a meeting or maybe not... he didn’t really have the energy to go check. Arthur was tired, physically and emotionally; old demons and painful memories had been dredged back up from the dark recesses of his mind this past week and he was finding it harder and harder to beat them back into submission.  
Alfred’s small road trip to Lake Destino had sent both he and Francis into a panic, terrified something could have happened as one hour stretched into two then three. Night descended and Arthur was sprawled across his toilet in tears with his stomach endlessly twisting, Francis over him rubbing small circles into his back.  
Arthur shuddered as he collapsed across the couch, flashbacks to seven years ago running painfully through his mind. The concern, the gnawing fear as that horrific realization dawned brighter and brighter the longer he didn’t come home… it had all been a terrible repeat last week, only somehow more painful the second time around.  
Arthur mulled over that as his eyes slipped closed, it had been the second time. The second time. It should never have happened the first time and yet… here he sat a veteran of unimaginable pain and braced for more. Fatigue ate away at his body, draining the energy from his limbs and creating the sensation he was slowly sinking into the couch cushions, never to emerge. Like he was being consumed by quicksand, only instead of suffocation by sand, he’d be lulled into an eternal sleep with the comfort of well-worn couch stuffing.  
Then the phone rang, shattering that illusion all together. Arthur didn’t want to move, the thought of dragging himself towards the kitchen where the nearest phone sat an irksome bother. But the ringing persisted, and if he chose to just sit there then he’d have to listen to an encore of the answering machine, followed by whatever message someone might leave…  
Best to just get the whole thing overwith, he decided, and with a lung he swung his body off the couch and in the direction of the cordless sitting in it’s cradle.  
“Hello?” He said as he pressed the TALK button, hoping to not sound as drained as he was. And even if he did, it was still technically early morning wasn’t it? Who would bother calling anyone at this hour?  
“Mr. Kirkland, good morning.” A voice Arthur didn’t recognize said from the other end of the line, “This is Detective Yao with-“  
“Yao… Kiku’s father?” Arthur interrupted.  
Detective Yao paused for a second, before letting loose a breathy chuckle, “That’s right, yes.” He coughs a bit awkwardly before continuing, “Mr. Kirkland, I’m calling because it seems our sons discovered a thing or two on their little trip to Lake Destino a few days ago.”  
“Yes?” Arthur frowned, wondering what Alfred could have done to warrant the local authority’s involvement.  
“I’d… I’d actually prefer if you and your husband could come to the station.” Detective Yao said slowly, “It seems they managed to find a lead in your son’s case… in Matthews case.”  
Time seemed to stop, the air was sucked from the kitchen by a vacuum and Arthur felt like everything had been turned on its head and smashed. He stood frozen, trying to breathe and restart his brain, tried to think. How was it possible? How was anything possible anymore?  
With old wounds threatening to rip his heart open, he swallowed and muttered quickly into the phone, “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”  
“That’s very much appreciated Mr. Kirkland.” Was Detective Yao’s quick reply before the line was cut and Arthur walked in a daze through the living room and in the direction of the staircase. Did he have the strength to make it up them? Or would his knees give out a few steps in? The twisting of his stomach and the settling fog in his brain were overwhelming; only one word, one name, ran through his head over and over again in rapid fire succession.  
Mattie... Mattie… Mattie’s case… something happened with Mattie’s case… Mattie…  
Without realizing it, he was leaning against Mattie’s door, clutching the handle tightly as the air got harder to breathe and his lungs constricted, and oh was it getting hotter in this hallway? Why were the lights dancing so much around his vision?  
“Arthur?”  
Arthur jumped as a hand appeared from the ether to touch his arm, a pair of arms wrapped around him and that hand moved to cover the one clutching the doorknob. Francis’ beard tickled the back of his neck and his long wavy hair pressed against the side of his face.  
Hair just like Mattie’s… it was uncanny how much Mattie resembled his Papa even though he was adopted… it was a sign Mattie was meant to belong with them. A sign…  
“Arthur, what’s wrong?” Francis whispered, reaching up to wipe a tear from Arthur’s cheek. Arthur gulped air as if he were starved for it and let his head collapse onto Francis’ shoulder.  
“Mattie… Mattie’s case…” He muttered, feeling his husband stiffen below him, “They found something… Francis they found something about his case…”  
“Did they say what?”  
Arthur shook his head slowly, the panic growing overwhelming and the darkness that had been gnawing at him consumed him, he found it hard to stand and there was Francis supporting his weight as the two of them sunk to the floor, Francis’ hands twisting through Arthur’s short hair and dancing along the shell of his ear.  
“Oh it’s probably a body… Francis what are we going to do?” Arthur gasped as tears pricked his vision, “They found something… a, a lead I think he said… oh but Francis! Francis!”  
“Shh, shush,” Francis whispered, pressing Arthur’s face to his chest, “shh.”  
Arthur sat there for a few minutes, openly sobbing and despairing before the sniffling subsided and he moved to push himself up, away from the embrace; away from Francis.   
Away from everything, really.  
“We should go… go see. Get it overwith.” Arthur whispered, “I expect Alfred will need to be taken out of school-Alfred…” In the shock he’d forgotten the fact that Alfred somehow had been responsible for whatever had been discovered, “Oh this explains it Francis… the Detective said Alfred and Kiku had found something last week, you know the night Alfred took forever to come home.”  
Francis remained stone faced, still and silent as Arthur ran a hand through his hair. It was getting too long, he’d probably need a trim later in the week.  
“It explains everything Francis, he found something dreadful and was afraid to tell us! Don’t you think?” Arthur whispered, looking to his partner for confirmation. For anything really.  
“I think,” Francis swallowed, his voice shaky and uneven, “I think it’s perhaps best we get down there Arthur.”  
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The station was just as Francis remembered it seven years ago. It was stuffy and efficient, the desks upon desks where officers and detectives sat with civilians, criminals and witnesses alike, taking statements or making phone calls. He spied one officer kick another awake, the other officer’s eyes drooping and a bottle of pills sat beside his hand on the desk.  
Arthur alternated between clinging to him for support and comfort before switching to closing off, going cold as if to try and protect himself from any further pain. He’d been cycling regularly between the two states these past few days, but now it was spontaneous and in quick succession.  
Francis himself felt numb. He forced himself to feel numb, to ignore the bubbling and burning pain lying just below whatever mental cover he’d managed to construct in the past few years over the thought of his baby boy. It used to be Francis bending over the toilet dumping wine bottles and chocolate out of his stomach countless nights in a row as the pain grew worse and worse, it used to be Francis either clinging to or rejecting Arthur and Alfred all together. He couldn’t look at pancakes without a stabbing sensation rolling over his chest, the thought of polar bears or beavers was a knife to his heart, and the few French phrases he’d taught his son were as bad as any French swear to him.  
Detective Yao was waiting for them in the doorway to his office, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Francis had to wonder if it was against regulation to have hair that long, even if it was pulled back and as official looking as it could get with as neat as the Detective kept it.  
“Mr. Kirkland, Mr. Bonnefoy,” He said, holding a hand out to the two of them and shaking firmly, “I’m glad you made it so quickly.” He allowed them in, directing them to two chairs that had been pushed close together and closer to the desk then the rest of the chairs lining the wall behind them. Arthur sat down, pulling Francis along behind him and Detective Yao relaxed into his long office chair, leaning forward with a cleansing sigh.  
“Matthew’s case has been transferred to me,” Detective Yao began, “The original detective-“  
“Was useless.” Francis muttered before he could stop himself. Arthur gave a light kick to his shin but Detective Yao didn’t look offended, in fact the corner of his mouth twitched before he turned his attention the folders before him. He opened the first one, Mattie’s case file, and turned it so that Francis and Arthur could take a look. Mattie’s nine year old face smiled up at them, oblivious of what was to come. Francis swallowed hard, the bubbling pain spiking with a surge of strength.  
Arthur reached out to stroke the photo with shaky fingers before quickly retracting his hand and Detective Yao allowed Francis to gently take it into his lap.  
“Now,” Detective Wang leaned over his desk, fixing the two of them with a somber gaze, “You know a boy named Carlos Machado, yes?”  
“He’s one of Alfred’s school mates,” Arthur said slowly, a bit surprised by the question.  
“Yes, well, Mr. Machado, a week or so ago, found himself in a whore house-an illegally run one with several underage minors working there. He says he didn’t take part, that he was there with his cousins, and he saw your son there.”  
“What?” Francis whispered, the air painful as he breathed.  
“He assumed at first it was Alfred, and as my son tells me he tried to taunt him with the knowledge. Alfred, of course, was able to prove him wrong fairly quickly and only afterward did your son start to suspect what really happened.”  
“That… that he saw…?” Francis hissed, feeling sick. Detective Wang’s only response was a slow and somber nod.  
Arthur swallowed, feeling a bit sick but mostly betrayed, “And he… he didn’t tell us?”  
“No,” Detective Wang sighed, “Instead, he, my son, and Mr. Machado all headed for the illegal brothel to confirm whether or not they’d found your missing son.  
“I’m told none of them engaged in anything going on there, they didn’t have the time to because one of the bouncers quickly deemed them all underage.” Detective Wang opened the second file sitting before him, “But, my son managed to snap a few pictures with his phone before they left.”  
He held out a blown up photograph to the two, Arthur suddenly finding it impossible to move and watching as Francis took it with a shaking hand, his other reaching out to take Arthur’s stone still one and grip it tightly.  
Looking over the page, Francis felt the pain and the tears he’d been holding back for as long as possible finally break through, reducing him to a sobbing, clinging mess on a weepy Arthur’s shoulder.  
Matthew had aged well, in his opinion, from when he last saw him, waving goodbye as the little boy ran inside the school after his brother. His hair had grown out, and Francis wondered if that was by Matthew’s choice or if his captors had done that. It was blonde, wavy like his. He stared at the camera head on, yet looking unaware he was even being photographed and a bit like a deer caught in the headlights.  
“Mon petit garçon” He muttered breathily, the paper shivering in his shaking hands, “Oh he is alive…”  
“Where is he?” Arthur asked, not caring in the least he sounded desperate.  
“We’re preparing a strike operation as we speak,” Detective Wang said, “We believe the people who took your son were also the ones to take the Micnat children. Kiku says there were several other kids like them in the house, we may very well be bringing home a lot of kids to their families if everything goes well.”  
“Detective…” Francis’ eyes were glued to Matthew’s photo, his angelic face staring unknowingly back at him, eyes wide and bright like the day he’d met the little one, “Detective… you said he was working in a brothel?”  
“An illegal one, alongside several underage minors-“  
“Do you think they could have done anything else to him?”  
“Francis,” Arthur hissed, “Francis don’t focus on that.”  
“I want to know what my baby boy has been going through,” Francis snapped, “I want to know what I couldn’t… I couldn’t protect him from…” His voice cracked and it was here Francis began to cling to Arthur, face buried in the tweed jacket as his body shook with sobs.  
“I’m not sure to what extent Matthew has been abused,” Detective Wang said, “At the very least we know forced prostitution. Beyond that, I’m not sure.”  
“Thank you Detective,” Arthur said, running his fingers soothingly through Francis’ hair, “And please, get the bastards who did this to our son.”  
“It’s my goal to see them persecuted to the highest extent of the law.” Detective Wang said, and by the tone of his suddenly cold and callous voice one could tell he meant every syllable.  
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Somehow, the station seemed to be cleared of it’s usually grim and shadowed vibe as Gilbert made his way into work. The time he’d taken off, even if he’d only begrudgingly admit it, had been good. His head felt clearer, lighter somehow.  
Gilbert still felt the weight of the things he needed to do and the troubles ever circling him, but most felt a tad smaller somehow, like they were easier to carry now that he’d been given a chance to recharge his batteries.  
Vash smiled when he saw Gilbert take his seat at his desk, a small nod in his direction before returning to his computer screen. They’d probably talk while out on patrol later, that’s usually when things just ended up getting discussed no matter how much one or the other wanted to avoid it.  
Roderich was watching from his office window, and the look that crossed his face seemed more relieved than anything else.  
Not much happened as he spent time sitting there, waiting to go on patrol as his mind wandered back to the trip.  
It hadn’t been that much of a trip, he’d mainly just packed a small bag with snacks and spare clothes and taken off in his car in no particular direction. The drive had been long, quiet, and a bit boring but he didn’t actually have the urge to go anywhere or do anything. He’d wanted to be back at the station working, maybe finally finding a puzzle piece to his own mysteries.  
But instead he drove, passing the city limit and going on and on until he no longer easily recognized the view around him. There were more trees, hills began to take off from the ground and he began to see what he liked to imagine were farms or at the very least large plots of land for large families. Strong, put-together families like the ones you see on TV, the kind he’d dreamt of as a kid.  
Eventually, when the sun had dipped closer to the horizon, Gilbert had begun looking more interestedly at passing motels and hotels. Just somewhere to stop for the night and then who knows? Back out on the open road in his beat up little tin can or maybe head home. He’d done something “trippy” and that could be good enough for Roddy right? He’d annoy him and Elizabeta when he got back.  
He stopped at the least sketchy looking motel he’d seen while actually looking, swiping his card and room key up while clutching tightly to the bag. The night manager had watched him go, looking every bit the old school teacher who just waited for you to step out of line so they could smack your hands red with a ruler.  
Gilbert’s attention to the present was snapped into place as Vash clapped him on the shoulder, jerking his head towards the door where the patrol car awaited them. A surge of giddiness ran through Gilbert, who was quick to hop to his feet and follow his partner out the door. Climbing into the car had a twinge of nostalgia to it, even though Gilbert really hadn’t been gone that long, and as he pulled the car into drive he couldn’t help but roll the windows down and speed a bit out onto the street. Vash cast him only one withering glance this time, letting it morph into an amused eye-roll instead.  
They were quiet for the first leg of the patrol, observing the day-to-day bustle of their jurisdiction parked here and there or cruising along the city streets. Only after the first drinks run did Vash turn to him with a curious look.  
“So…?” He trailed off, letting the question hang open for Gilbert.  
Gilbert shrugged, looking out along the windshield, “There’s not much to report-I didn’t really have any plans or do much.”  
“You must have done something.”  
“Mainly just drove around-it’s rather therapeutic.”  
Vash grinned, “I guess I imagined something more wild for the likes of you-you’re an animal when you want to be.”  
“I thought about it, I almost let loose.” Gilbert admitted.  
“Why didn’t you?”  
Gilbert shrugged again, “I just didn’t feel like it.”  
“Okay, who are you?” Vash demanded, “The Gilbert I know would have gotten drunk at a bar or something then tried to pull the dumbest moves he could think of.”  
“Oh there was plenty of booze and stupidity.” Gilbert said quickly. It was true, beer had been like water to him, and stupidity like air-but there’d also been tears, guilt, and an ever constant pang of idleness. He’d wanted to do more, to do something. He was alone, a free agent with no one to report to. At times he’d thought it a good idea to take advantage of this and to try and do something helpful, but what he could never conclude. Look for Ludwig? How? Help those missing kids he’d been hearing about? Again, how? Their department wasn’t even wanted in that case.  
In the end he’d settled for feeling useless as he sat alone in a bar, looking to sour to invite much company.  
“Sounds like a restful vacation.” Vash concluded, watching a pair of kids chase each other at the park they’d stopped at nearby.  
“With everything going on lately, I dunno, I wanted to work not waist time.” Gilbert sighed, “Maybe if Roddy had forced it on me next month or last month-“  
“You’d still have pulled the giant fit you did.” Vash grinned.  
“You never know, maybe I’d have jumped a plane to Vegas or something.”  
“Gilbert…” Vash sighed.  
“Yeah alright,” Gilbert rolled his eyes, “But maybe not being crazy was what I needed-I slept, I ate, I drove around the boonies and pretended it was some cross country adventure.”  
“Now that sounds more like you.”  
Gilbert slipped his phone from his pocket, pulling up a selfie he’d snapped where a bird had landed in the background. The bird wasn’t particularly big or colorful, but Gilbert huddled in the corner of the photo looking fearful anyway.  
Vash laughed, “Tell me you have more.”  
In answer Gilbert swept his thumb to the right.


	20. Chapter 20

It’s early morning when the door opens and Mattie feels Gerhalt pulling him towards the bathroom, throwing clothes into his face and shutting the door behind them. Sleep is still slowing his brain, muddling thought process, but the fact he’s being rushed and Gerhalt’s expression of anticipation and annoyance says they have a well-paying customer downstairs and he’d better hurry and get ready.  
He wonders why it would be so early in the morning, but then the thought passes as cold water hits him like a wall, driving all thought from his brain and a small yelp from his lips. Gerhalt chuckles from the other side of the curtain, checking his watch for the fifth time in as many minutes.  
When they’re downstairs Mattie realizes it’s not an early morning appointment for Mr. Jameson, who looks haggard and rough with his shirt half-tucked into his pants and a thick carpet of stubble across his jaw. Dark shadows cling to the skin under his eyes and any faux-warmth he’d usually greet Mattie with was replaced by a cold sneer. Without a word from him or Gerhalt, Mattie’s dragged into the Room and there’s a loud thud as his head cracks against the wall.  
There’s a small grunt as a boot connects with his abdomen but by then he’s already fast retreating into that corner of his head where no one can touch him and nothing can hurt him.  
It’s bright and flowery, sometimes he tries to imagine it smells like lilies or bread. Sometimes he tries to fix on an image of a rose in his head, sometimes it stuffed toys like the polar bear upstairs. He tried a hockey stick once, he liked hockey, hadn’t he? He’d tried but the urge to hit back spiked and he’d nearly lost his front teeth as a result.  
Now, today as his arms were pinned and his stomach suffered the intrusion of a knee, he imagines purple flowers, not lavenders but something else… he tries to think of the name, putting all his focus into that. There’s shouting above him but it barely registers as he fixes on the image of the flower, purple with long petals forming teardrop shapes around it’s yellow center. Maybe it starts with an I? They’re pretty, he knows that, and he vaguely remembers handling one when he was small, the smell of dirt rich in his nostrils.  
“Hey!” Kevin’s angry voice shatters the sensation of large hands, large warm hands reaching out to grip his own and just as soil-caked. A sharp sting across his face, dangerously close to his eye, further banishes the idea those hands had tried to help him handle the purple flowers.  
Mattie looks up to see Kevin snarling, angry, one hand on his throat with the thumb pressing into his jugular.  
“Look at me,” Kevin whispers, returning his attention to his own needs. Mattie locks his eyes on the greasy dark hair, spiked in places and flat in others. The dark shadows under that man’s eyes make him look old and worn, the way he grits his teeth in concentration seems painful. He’s sweaty and smells disgusting; Mattie might have gagged if he didn’t know better. Every inch of Mattie’s own body hurts, but he doesn’t let so much as a whimper pass his lips, Kevin doesn’t like it. He let’s the man clutch his hips, lets him bruise his sides and use one hand to claw into his wrists. It’s painful and disgusting but he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t give anything that could spark Kevin’s wrath. He watches those dark, malicious eyes and tries to think of a time when he could look an adult in the eyes and not see a dark coldness there.  
He thought he did once, or maybe that was a dream-perhaps he was even just remembering Lovino or Ivan. Ivan could be warm when he felt up to it, and Lovino had been there from day one.  
With a groan, Kevin falls forward, his shoulder smothering Mattie’s face. He can smell booze and nicotine woven into the fibers of the material, can imagine the places this man might have been last night. He smells that, it’s mixed with the sweat and grime and general B.O. of this man and he can feel is gag reflex begin to react but he swallows it down.  
It’s almost over anyway.  
Those bruising fingers slowly slither down from his wrists, reaching out to run through his now matted hair and softly he hears the man sigh into his ear. He can’t help but wince as a freshly formed bruise is brushed and Kevin snickers.  
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” He whispers, sitting up and looking around for his coat. It’s laying abandoned by the side of the bed, crumpled into a pile. Kevin reaches down and scoops it up, rifling the pockets and drawing out what looks to be a hypodermic needle.  
“I got a few friends that like to hook me up,” He whispers, almost like it’s a great secret as he prods the inside of Mattie’s elbow, “And I figured, maybe I should repay you for how… helpful you’ve been with me today.”  
There’s a sharp prick and then Mattie’s head grows slow, he feels like he’s surrounded by maple syrup instead of open air. Kevin’s voice is a bit odd and his eyelids are a bit heavy.  
Then he’s gone and Mattie’s left lying on the bed, sinking and floating simultaneously as his head begins to wander here and there, from purple flowers to polar bears to hockey sticks all at once. He can’t feel the pain in his stomach or the bruises along his sides. It’s all gone now, the only sensation is the slow trickle of blood still running along his brow where Kevin had struck him near the eye.  
He’s just beginning to remember the first few bars of “Claire de la Lune” when the General is walking in…  
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Trying to remain cool and frozen, trying to ignore the hastily taped over cracks in his shield, Francis slowly slipped a shaky hand across the cool doorknob of the bedroom. Twisting it open was harder than moving a parked car, the door itself a greater challenge as Francis sucked in air to try and keep his tight lungs working.  
Inside, the dust had carpeted absolutely everything. It gave everything a gray, fuzzy tint and Francis began to sneeze.  
Wiping the tears from his eyes, he looked around at a room he used to enter every day, used to run into on special occasions and divebomb the bed’s occupant-usually followed by Arthur and Alfred if Alfred hadn’t already snuck in earlier that morning. An excited squeal would sound from the bed and Francis would scoop his children up and swing them around, celebrating whatever they were celebrating as the children laughed and Arthur shouted to be careful.  
Francis’ fingers brushed the rust-colored bloodstain on the upper part of the closet doorway where he’d accidentally knicked Alfred while swinging him around. They attributed his zealous personality to the idea that the common sense had been knocked out of him that day (and Francis had a sneaking suspicion they were right).  
Francis sat down on the bed, a puff of dust billowing up around him, and as the coughing subsided he looked around until he saw the beaver toy they’d bought for Matthew sitting where it always had on the bed. It, like everything else, was covered in a thick layer of dust but Francis took it into his arms anyway, giving it a tight squeeze and pulling his knees up to press against the toy and his chest.  
Children had never been on Francis’ radar as a young adult. They probably never would have been if it weren’t for Arthur-sweet, sexy, infuriating Arthur. He dressed as an old man or a punk rocker and Francis could never decide which was the real Arthur and which was the one he wished to be. The same could be said for him, ever switching between the fashionable snob parallel with New York’s finest and the sweet poet who cared for nothing but the beauty of the life around him.  
The two of them had met, as like all fantasy romance tales, running into each other at a high school dance. Like, literally running into each other because Arthur’s brothers had ganged up on the dorky freshman and thrown him into the wall of dancing bodies and Francis had been trying to make his way towards the reportedly spiked punchbowl.  
Francis had hated him from the moment he set eyes on that haystack of hair and those bushy eyebrows.  
It would take years, and endless unsolved fights, for the two of them to see more of each other than just a punching bag for the other’s aggressions. It take a year after that to see one another in a more interested light, and about six months more before Arthur, excited by the results of their end of term exams, grabbed Francis by the face and pressed their lips together as hard as he could.  
It was a story Francis was sure to regal to his children many a time, often at the risk of a certain husband taking swift revenge.  
Starting their second year of college, Francis and Arthur had looked around together to see many of their friends and family had also started families. While they only had each other, everyone else was expanding their familial circles into something beautiful, something Francis could admire with his artist’s passion.  
Something Arthur grew to long for more and more until finally, after conversations that seemed to lead nowhere and wistful looks to the playground that stood outside their apartment at the time, Francis wrapped his arms around Arthur’s waist and whispered his interest in finding something to pitter around the apartment and get under foot.  
What they’d found was not one something, but two somethings. Two little blonde boys who clung tightly to each other’s hands and refused to even speak to Arthur and Francis unless it was together.  
“Well of course we’ll speak to the both of you!” Arthur had cried happily, looking at Francis with the widest eyes of hope one ever did see, “How could we dream of ever choosing just one?”  
It seemed to be the magic words, because Alfred had stepped aside and Matthew, for the first time that day, managed a shy smile in Francis’ direction.  
A soft knock at the door roused Francis’ from his thoughts and he looked up to see Arthur standing there, body peeking out of the door like he was afraid to open it completely. He was quiet, looking Francis up and down slowly before softly padding his way to the bed, coughing as he roused his own dust cloud. Their hands managed to find each other, intertwining and holding tight as Arthur reached out to run a finger along the toy. It wasn’t Mattie’s favorite, it had been a gift from Arthur’s brother and it was more the thought of who gave it more than the gift that kept the toy hovering near the bed or around the room instead of disappearing in the closet.  
The two of them sat silently for a long time, not looking at really anything or each other. This room seemed almost like a stranger to them now, and yet it still held such warm memories.  
Later, Alfred would come home from the library to find Mattie’s door hanging slightly open, and upon peeking inside he’d find his parents, resting against one another with Francis’ head atop Arthur’s and their hands clutched tightly.  
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A lone cry rang through the night air, accompanied by ragged breath and a wet whimper.  
“Sorry!” Lovino hissed, sending an anxious glance towards the bedroom door before turning back to look over Mattie’s stomach with his flashlight, “Just… just hold still okay?”  
“I’m… I’m trying…” Mattie coughed, wincing.  
Lovino’s fingers, ice cold to the touch, gingerly padded along the bruises and bumps, trying to find for something serious. He was worried he’d felt a broken or at least cracked rib, but chalked it up now to the position Mattie had been lying in earlier. Thankfully, nothing seemed life threatening.  
This time.  
“I think you’re gonna live for now.” Lovino said half-heartedly, earning a dull eye roll in reply. Behind them, Ivan sighed and Ludwig watched quietly, his dog clutched to his chest. Peter and Wendy once again sat in Lovino’s cot, half-dozing due to the late hour.  
At the pronouncement of continued existence, Mattie pulled his shirt back down, burrowing into the blanket on his cot as Lovino stood up, switching off the flashlight.  
“Now to sleep, all of you.” He clucked like a mother hen, waving Ivan into lying on the cot and pulling the blanket over Ludwig. He paused before his own, eventually just deciding to lay Peter and Wendy side by side together and tucked them in before tentatively retreating to Mattie’s bed, where he was accepted with open arms.  
The slow, heavy breathing of sleep soon filled the room. Five sleeping children dreamt into the night, clutching either each other or their toys closer as Lovino stared blankly at the darkened ceiling.  
And drifted into a trance of thought…


	21. Chapter 21

“Oh that one!” Grandpa bustled down the racks of clothes to stand before a mannequin dressed in something pink, frilly, and very Wendy-ish. Behind him, Lovino’s head fell a bit to the side as he tugged a quiet Wendy along. Ivan brought up the rear, more interested in the clothes on the racks and trying to place them with other clothes he’d seen here and there to create outfits.  
Grandpa pointed up at the dress again, smiling down at Wendy, “What do you think?”  
Wendy shrugged slowly, her eyes not lifting high enough to even look at the dress. Lovino sighed, tugging her closer to his side as he smiled kindly at Grandpa.  
“I think it’s rather nice,” He said, “Ivan?”  
“Wendy’s style.” Ivan nodded before reaching out to pluck a jacket from one of the racks, “If you pair it with this I think people will like it.”  
Grandpa frowned at Wendy, but when his attention was drawn to the jacket his eyes lit up and he nodded, “Oh how cute!”  
“How about we try it on?” Lovino asked Wendy, dropping to one knee so they were eye-level. Wendy shrugged, still not looking at the dress.  
“Ivan, help me find someone to get it down for us.” Grandpa nodded, “Lovino stay here with Wendy.”  
Lovino was only to happy to do so, watching Ivan and Grandpa march away he looked around until he spied a bright orange tank-top on one of the racks, a tiny thing that probably belonged in the toddlers section.  
He stood up and grabbed it, draped against his chest and grinning at Wendy, “What do you think? My style?”  
Wendy rolled her eyes, but Lovino took it as a victory when her mouth twitched upwards.  
“I certainly don’t mind seeing you dressed like that.”  
Lovino spun around to see none other than Romeo standing behind him, eyes hooded as he looked Lovino up and down.  
“I certainly don’t mind seeing you wearing only that.”  
“Hi… Romeo…” Lovino swallowed, stepping back until Wendy was once again at his side.  
“Hello Cinny, small world isn’t it? I stopped in here to see if they had anything and I find you!” Romeo beamed.  
“We’re just here for Darling,” Lovino shrugged, only at the last second recalling Wendy’s “stage name”. Wendy flinched when she heard it and Lovino squeezed her shoulder in apology.  
“Who’s we?” Romeo frowned, looking around the store, “Is Grandpa here?”  
“And Sunflower.” Lovino nodded.  
Romeo’s eyebrow arched at the mention of Ivan but it was fleeting as he reached out to embrace Lovino’s neck, “Oh I’ve missed you Cinny! We need to go out again.”  
“That… sounds nice.”  
“I sense hesitation!” Romeo sang as he ran his fingers through Lovino’s hair, “Don’t worry, I won’t drag you to another dinner or something-we can do what we know you’re good at.”  
“Ah… that’s not… well-“  
“Romeo?” Grandpa cried as he approached, flanked by Ivan and a staff member, “Oh where have you been!”  
“I know! I just got busy and it all slipped away from me!” Romeo laughed, releasing Lovino and turning to embrace the older man, “I need to come by sometime, I know.”  
“I’ve missed you-it feels like you really get me, you know? I miss that.”  
“Well I certainly get your tastes, you know there’s this restaurant I took Cinny here too-I don’t know how much he liked it but I think you’ll just adore it.”  
“I’ll see how my schedule is when I get back to the house.” Grandpa nodded before turning to the store associate as they tried to hand him the dress, “Thank you dear. We’ll be quick with it I promise.” He then turned and dumped the dress in Ivan’s arms, “You two take Darling here to the dressing room. And do try to hurry, we don’t want to inconvenience anyone more than we probably have.”  
Lovino was glad for the escape, immediately taking Wendy’s arm and practically flying towards the dressing room, Ivan on his heels. He didn’t look back until they were disappearing through the doorway but when he did he caught Romeo’s eye. Romeo winked at him and Lovino felt his face redden almost immediately.  
“I don’t like that guy,” Ivan remarked as he carefully pulled the dress from its hanger.  
Lovino groaned, sitting on one of the benches and covering his head with his arms, “I wish he would just go away!”  
“Maybe we’ll get lucky and work will call him on a business trip.” Ivan said, although he sounded the least hopeful.  
“Maybe you’ll get lucky and we’ll have to move.” Wendy suggested, voice flat as she took the dress, “Do I have to?”  
“Yeah, sorry.” Ivan shrugged, reaching out to tuck hair behind her ear as he smiled apologetically. Wendy groaned and disappeared inside the dressing room stall and Ivan turned back to Lovino.  
“We’ll say the dress is perfect, even if it isn’t, and maybe we can get out of here. He said we only really needed something for Wendy anyway.”  
“But that opens up the potential for Romeo to buy me!” Lovino groaned.  
“That is such a weird name-Romeo.” Ivan chuckled, “It’s like he’s trying to be made fun of.”  
“I think being rich has him protected Ivan.”  
“Still, must wonder what he lived with as a kid.”  
“I hope it was horrible.” Lovino muttered, craning his neck to see outside the doorway. Romeo and Grandpa looked to be deep in conversation, they were talking a mile a minute and Grandpa was waving his arms and gesturing to the dressing room-his usual sales pitch routine perhaps? Then again, it wouldn’t take much negotiation to get Romeo to buy him so… what? What could they be talking about?  
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Grandpa was tight-lipped about his conversation. There was no gushing or bragging as they left the store, the new dress and it’s jacket swinging in the bag on his arm as he hurried them to the car. Instead he started going over Wendy’s potential as “one of the team”-causing the small girl to sink lower and lower into her seat until Ivan eventually pulled her closer to his side. Lovino watched from the passenger seat, wondering how much that little girl could take.  
Home had never been a more welcome sight-it brought the hope that Grandpa would stop talking. Which only came half-true. He went from brainstorming Wendy’s potential to listing out chores and orders for all three of them as they walked up the drive and into the house. The General was in the kitchen with Peter, Mattie wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Lovino wondered if a client was over, or if Mattie had somehow managed to hole up in their room for the afternoon.  
It seemed like they’d only just closed the door when Ivan heard a car pull up, and he looked through the window to see Ludwig climbing out and limping towards the door with Gerhalt close behind.  
The door opened again with a triumphant swing and Gerhalt stepped through looking cheerier than he had in a while. Ludwig seemed more relaxed, the tension missing from his shoulders and there was a dark bruise peeking out from under his t-shirt.  
“How’d everything go at Theodore’s?” Grandpa asked, taking their coats and throwing them on the hooks by the door.  
“Perfect,” Gerhalt grinned, “In fact Ludwig did so well Theodore slipped him a little extra on our way out the door.”  
Grandpa’s face split into a wide smile as he turned to beam at Ludwig, reaching out to ruffle his hair energetically.  
“At’a boy Luddy!” He chuckled, “I knew you had it in you!”  
Ludwig’s cheeks were burning red and he smiled shyly back before being allowed to limp further into the house, where Lovino stopped him with a sigh and had him climb onto his back. Ludwig was quiet on the walk up the stairs, seeming to look everywhere but the back of Lovino’s head. Lovino on the other hand began to hum to himself, throwing open the door to their bedroom where they found Mattie curled into a ball on his cot asleep. There were bruises marking him too, although it seemed whatever client he’d had wasn’t all that worried about if people saw.  
Ludwig still wouldn’t meet Lovino’s eye as he was set down, choosing to focus on the cot as he limped forward and collapsed across it.  
“Luddy?”  
“I’m okay.” Ludwig mumbled into his sheet, body limp. Lovino plucked the stuffed dog from the floor near the cot legs and turned it over in his hands.  
“Okay… good.” Lovino nodded, “Just checking.” He sat down gingerly on the cot, careful to not touch Ludwig, afraid he’d recoil away.  
“But you know… if you weren’t… that’d be okay too.” He whispered, setting the toy across one of Ludwig’s hands. Like a snake presented with a mouse, Ludwig wrapped his arms around the dog and pulled it close to his chest. When he said nothing more Lovino decided it would probably be better to leave him alone to sleep. He got up with a groan and stretched his back, detouring on his path to the door to walk over and run his fingers through Mattie’s hair. The teenager didn’t wake, but he groaned in his sleep a bit and curled somehow tighter around his polar bear.  
As he reached the door he heard Ludwig sniffle a little.  
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Katya woke before her alarm that morning. She shot up in bed, breathing hard and twisting this way and that as she tried to clear the image of three small children from her head. She panted, clutching at her heart while the alarm sounded beside her, scaring a shriek from her.  
Just a nightmare, she told herself, just a stupid, awful nightmare… she reminded herself to not pay attention to it. You never pay attention to those sort of dreams. She did allow herself to reflect over the fact that it was three kids now, instead of the one, who glared at her accusingly from the open bathroom doorway. Sometimes they were covered in blood, sometimes they were just deathly pale. The point was though, they were dead-and Katya had only herself to blame.  
But that was enough for her, she forced herself to stop and focus on other things as a wave of nausea passed over her.  
She briefly wondered if she should call Mrs. Micnat-maybe persuade her into letting her do something around that house today but it was possible the woman wouldn’t even answer the phone. Mrs. Micnat had become very withdrawn, keeping to sulking in her bedroom where Katya was sure she heard sobbing from time to time. The children’s rooms remained closed off, almost like both Katya and their mother were pretending the kids had locked themselves in for some cruel and twisted sort of punishment.  
Yesterday Mrs. Micnat had appeared in the kitchen only long enough to tell Katya to take a few days off, smiling tearily as she mused the poor girl had gone through enough without the added burden of more housework in a house that didn’t belong to her. Katya knew she musn’t have meant it, but the way Mrs. Micnat told her to take paid leave felt like a grim reminder that she was in fact not part of the family, that she had no business being around these people even though she was in just as much pain as this woman who she’d come to adore.  
Katya had smiled, a dark hole tearing through her heart as the fear this was the beginning of goodbye materialized, and thanked her employer for the vacation.  
With nothing much to focus on, Katya turned her attention towards her sisters room. Silent as a tomb only because it’s occupant was passed out in the bed. Even Natalya found it too much of a challenge to try and sleep with metal pumping through the air around her.  
Natalya’s room was a dark and dreary mess, Katya nearly tripped and broke her neck three times as she picked her way through the clothes and books littering the floor. She spied a few plates, some still covered in food unfortunately, hiding under the bed too. Natalya’s hand brushed one of the newer ones as she slept, half-hanging off the bed.  
Gently, Katya shook her sister’s arm. Natalya groaned, swatting weakly in Katya’s general direction but still missing her completely.  
“Off… go’way… No!” Natalya jerked her head upwards to snap at her sister, blinking sleepily before dropping back to the pillow and frowning at Katya, “What’dya want?”  
“Well it is Saturday…” Katya whispered, although she wasn’t quite sure why, “I was wondering if you wanted to have a shopping day with me?”  
Natalya frowned, propping herself up on her elbows as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, “Shopping day?”  
“Yeah, check a few thrift stores, see if there’s anything good. We could even stop at that ice cream shop you’re so fond of.”  
Natalya sighed, flopping back to the warm comfort of her mattress before nodding tiredly, “Give me ten more minutes though.”  
Katya smiled, reaching out to ruffle Natalya’s hair before turning and carefully making her way out of the room. When she looked back, Natalya had already slipped back into dreamland.  
About an hour later, after much begging, coaxing, and bribing, the two sat in their beat up old car that pittered down the street towards the central part of town. Despite Natalya’s tired grumbling during the drive, her face lit up as they pulled into the parking lot of the thrift store. She didn’t even wait until Katya had fully parked before muttering,  
“Gotta go pop some tags Kat-only got twenty dollars in my pocket.” And just like that she was gone, zooming towards the store door.  
Katya groaned as she parked, shaking her head before hurrying to follow Natalya inside. The smell of mothballs assaulted her first thing past the door, floor wax and old women perfume mixing at the edge of the odor. Anything they bought would have to be washed… maybe twice.  
Natalya’s pale blonde head bobbed up and down along the racks, Katya wondered how she moved so fast. She’d always been fast, as a little girl Katya would send Natalya to swipe things she didn’t think she herself had the speed it called for. At the time, her sister had also been much shorter, making hiding under things a commonality.  
She wondered briefly if Natalya was still a quick pickpocket… just in case.  
Katya still found it hard to face Mrs. Micnat. She should have seen that car, noticed it didn’t belong-maybe done something about it. Maybe if they’d all been a bit more careful, a bit more aware of some lurking danger, then… then…  
Katya swallowed a rising lump in her throat and approached Natalya, yanking something dark colored off the rack and holding it up to her sister’s back.  
“What do you think?” She smiled as Natalya turned around, raising an eyebrow at the ripped black t-shirt with the odd white spot in the stomach.  
“Weird… and not the fun weird.” Natalya frowned.  
“Oh well,” Katya sighed, throwing the shirt back on the rack and beginning to finger through the clothes surrounding it, “I think there’s a few here that might suit you.”  
“I don’t like the designs,” Natalya complained, “And this one is way to sick-I’ll die of heatstroke.”  
“What about this?” A blue blouse with a large black bow at the front, Natalya loved bows didn’t she? There was that ratty old one she wore almost every day as a kid.  
It’d been a gift from-  
“Nat! Look over here!” Katya looped her arm through her sister’s and dragged her towards some of the more dressier items. A long, slinky black dress peeked out between some of the poofier skirts and prom ensembles. Katya held it up, reaching forward to drape it along her sister who kicked a foot out and found the end of the dress was pooling on the floor below.  
“It’s to long-hey maybe it’ll fit you?”  
Katya swallowed again, glancing at her larger chest and back at the tight-fitting dress. Natalya sighed, dragging her sister towards the dressing rooms lining the back wall and nearly threw her in alongside the dress.  
“And don’t come out until you’re hot!” Natalya cried, turning her head to search the rejects rack. She could have sworn she saw something worthy of her eye. She was right, a Rush T-shirt hung abandoned among the more gaudy church dresses and she squealed.  
Katya on the other hand, was groaning as she tried to make the zipper close the last part of the dress. It refused to budge however and she felt her face grow hot. This was a constant problem, nice clothes never wanted to fit; and with her kind of salary finding anything tailored to her body type was more than a chore, it was suicide.  
Abandoning all hope of closing the zipper, Katya stepped back to look the rest of the trainwreck over.  
But… it wasn’t a trainwreck actually. Katya couldn’t stop herself from grinning, but the dress actually looked nice-even if the back hung open. The fabric’s design bent and twisted along with her body, creating a sort of streamline effect that had you look her up and down constantly. The black actually seemed to slim her chest instead of showing it off like most dresses did, leaving her not feeling like a total whore trying to sell herself to whoever she talked to.  
Timidly, she stepped out the dressing room door. Natalya looked up from the t-shirt she’d been admiring and began to look her over critically. Katya bit her lip as Natalya circled to the back, tried not to flinch as her sister’s fingers reached out to touch the horrible zipper.  
“I bet I could alter it here in the back,” Natalya said, “Maybe give it a shorter zipper and open up the back a bit more? Or perhaps we give it a lace back and add more fabric so there’s enough?” Natalya circled back around to the front, “Other than that, I think this is perfect for you.”  
Katya beamed. Oh her wonderful, resourceful sister! What would she do without her?  
Katya grinned and pulled her sister into a hug, giggling a bit when Natalya grunted in surprise and tried to squirm away like a disgruntled cat-hissing and everything. She stalked off, back towards the clothes while Katya disappeared into the stall to change.  
Natalya used to love hugs, used to tolerate a lot more physical contact than she did nowadays really. Katya was certain part of that had been due to the trauma of losing… But nevertheless, it hurt over the years as she withdrew from Katya’s arms more and more. Natalya seemed to abhor being touched, the mere thought souring the look on her face. Katya didn’t understand, if it were her she’d never want to let go.  
Tentatively, she reached out to touch Natalya’s shoulder. Natalya looked to her and smiled, holding up her own clothes as she asked if Katya was ready to check out.  
The rest of the day would consist of perusing thrift stores, accumulating rock band t-shirts and clothes that would need to be altered for Katya to be able to breathe in. The ice cream shop welcomed them excitedly with open arms, Eduard and Ravis smiling eagerly as the entered. Natalya eyed the confectionaries excitedly, pointing to every odd flavor with a hungry glint in her eye.  
The day was a nice one, nicer than Katya probably deserved if she was honest with herself, and it ended with a smiling Natalya wishing her goodnight and leaning over to peck her cheek before disappearing into her room for bed.  
It was one child Katya hadn’t failed, one child she wouldn’t be seeing in her dreams staring accusingly down at her.  
And that was all she could ask for.


	22. Chapter 22

Lake Destino wasn’t that special in Yao’s eyes.  
During his college days he’d done some traveling, gone places and seen things and in comparison to all of that, Lake Destino was just another man-made suburban lake for those with more money than most. The town seemed a bit boring, having all the typical entertainment venues Yao had seen a thousand times before he came to the thought that an illegally run brothel was probably the only thing that made this place “different” from any other high-class neighborhood.  
Officer Adnan sat beside him in the car, an unmarked police car sitting just down the street from the house supposedly containing this horror-show. Behind them Officer Karpusi struggled to keep awake and his head bobbed up and down against his chest.  
“Did he switch pills yet?” Yao wondered aloud.  
“He hasn’t gotten much sleep to begin with actually.” Adnan muttered, turning back to look at his partner, “I’ll kick him in a minute or two. He’s useless until it’s time.”  
“He’s going in there.” Yao said.  
“Why? Send me.”  
“Sadik…” Yao sighed, sounding tired.  
“I know, I know, he looks the part and I don’t.”  
“Technically we all do, but yeah Heracles wins this round.” Yao said, because Heracles had literally won the round when the three of them had pulled straws and his had been the longest.  
“I don’t know if he’d find it funny or offensive we think he’d be the one more likely to pray on a sixteen year old boy than me or you.”  
“Probably offensive.”  
“The kid would have to be wearing cat ears anyway…” Adnan sighed, grinning when Yao rolled his eyes.  
Beside them, a dark blue car slowly strolled by, the window rolled down just enough that he could make out choppy dark hair and eyes, which gave Yao a wink before continuing on down the road.  
The eyes, and the rest of the body they were attached to in the form of Officer Li Xiao Chun, approached the car a few minutes later a second time, this time making his way to the passenger side as Officer Adnan reached back to slap at Officer Karpusi’s leg until he snorted awake. Li Xiao opened the door to the back of the car and grinned, seeing Heracles hurrying to put himself together so that he looked the part of a potential client and not a half-asleep cop in civilian clothes.  
“Hurry up slow poke!” Li Xiao grinned, stepping back as Heracles clambered out of the car. Heracles yawned, rubbing his face before shaking his head and turning back to lean into Sadik’s window.  
“Take a look around,” Yao said, “Try and find where they’re keeping the kids and how many. Once you're out come straight back here and we can put together the plan for how we're going to enter the house.”  
“And try not to get shot.” Sadik grinned cheekily.  
Heracles narrowed his eyes at Sadik, “You’re rather laid back about all this.”  
“Just trying to keep calm,” Sadik shrugged, “Besides, I can’t stop thinking about anything other than you waking up back there. The anxiety of a strike is taking a few minutes to set in.”  
Heracles rolled his eyes, standing and nodding to Li Xiao to lead on.  
It was quiet leading up to the house, Heracles briefly wondered if everyone was asleep. Were there normal work hours for a brothel? Probably… probably at night when no one was around. It seemed like people normally did things like that at night anyway, would it be better if they did this later in the day?  
Li Xiao threw his fist against the door twice before it was thrown open by a large blonde man. He looked the two of them over before jerking his head back to invite them in.  
It was somehow even quieter inside, that is until a tan man with auburn hair appeared grinning wide. He lifted his arms and greeted them as if they were old friends instead of total strangers.  
“How are you my friends?” He chuckled, walking around the two of them, “It’s always nice to see new faces around these parts. We tend to hit a rut of regulars and that’s just so boring! Wouldn’t you agree?” He draped his arms over their shoulders, grinning at the two of them like a giddy child.  
“We heard about what you offered and figured it might be a good way to combat boredom actually.” Li Xiao grinned darkly.  
“Well but of course!” The auburn haired man cried, “And for a good price, I can ensure you won’t be bored for a good long while.”  
Heracles touched the money sitting in his front pocket, “Do we pay you now, or later, sir?”  
The man chuckled, turning to look at his blonde associate, “Really boys, we’re not just about money here! Loosen up!” He slapped Heracles across the rear, “Call me Grandpa for starters-none of this ‘sir’ crap, understand?”  
“Right… Grandpa.” Heracles nodded, trying not to notice how Li Xiao’s mouth twitched.  
Grandpa chuckled, pushing his two newest clients further into the house, “As you can see, we have rather modest accommodations-but that doesn’t mean we aren’t extraordinary in our own way. We have everything you need my friends, the clients, the toys, and most importantly, the discretion.”  
Grandpa led them into the living room, keeping his arms up as he stepped in front of them and waving them around as if he were showing off something amazing when really it was a suburbanite living room with people of questionable circumstances.   
“And here, gentlemen, is the best we have to offer.” Grandpa said with a flurry of his hands.  
Heracles swallowed, looking around as six kids looked back at him. It was easy to pick out the Micnat’s, sitting in the corner of a couch hand in hand and watching him blankly.  
No… Peter was watching him blankly. Wendy was just staring, a dead-eyed stare and Heracles had walked in on enough abuse cases to know what the expression probably meant.  
It was an expression shared by Mattie, who Heracles also recognized from the files he and Sadik had perused on the way up here. He was sitting slumped slightly, one arm around his stomach and his knees drawn in, watching Heracles like a bored cat with absolutely nothing better to do. A white polar bear peeked out from behind his knees, black beaded eyes smiling as Mattie’s finger scratched at the toy’s head.  
There were other kids he didn’t recognize, an auburn haired teenager who looked to be the oldest out of all of them-and Heracles had to wonder how it was possible he was still around-and a pale boy who’s gaze had an icy edge to it. There was a boy who looked to be between Mattie and Peter’s age, blonde like most of them and watching Heracles carefully, making a vain attempt at looking a bit interested when there was an underlying tremor of fear underneath. His eyes darted back and forth too much and his hands fidgeted as he tried to find a place to hold them that was comfortable.  
Grandpa was still talking, going on and on about the different kids and how much he loved working with them (Heracles swallowed down the rising bile at that), but the other two were watching from the kitchen. The blonde guy looked bored, sizing Heracles up as if for a fight (bring it Blondie, Heracles thought, he’d tie that stupid hair in a knot and yank it out of his head). The other one however, he’d begun to frown suspiciously.  
It sounded like Grandpa was just finishing his spiel when the other guy got up, slowly inching forwards until he was standing right in front of Li Xiao Chun and analyzing him hard. Then he grabbed him by the wrist and Heracles had no choice but to follow after.  
“Hey,” Heracles grinned amiably, “Where are we going?”  
“I’m thinking Grandpa is overselling our product-it’s forced me to think of a way to make what we do around here more interesting.” The old guy snapped, grip tight on Li Xiao’s wrist.  
“Well could you let me go?” Li Xiao grit his teeth, “I would have followed you.”  
“Sorry, force of habit.” He led them into the kitchen, heading for the tall white door standing between the cabinet and the stove. At first Heracles thought it could be the door to the pantry, but that was standing wide open on the other side of the kitchen.  
The door to the basement was wrenched open and with a well-placed kick, Officer Chun went flying down the steps. Heracles snarled, ready to fight but Gerhalt was behind him, pushing him hard and with a yelp Heracles was tumbling after his fellow officer.  
His head connected with one of the steps on his way down and it all went black.  
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The basement door closed with a slam and all was silent for a moment.  
Then someone hit the fast forward button. Grandpa and Gerhalt were racing upstairs while the General scooped up his notebooks haphazardly. He began barking orders at the kids, sending them scurrying up the stairs as well for their bags.  
Only Peter and Wendy stayed behind, watching as Grandpa reappaeared with only a duffel bag slung over his arm and wearing a baseball cap.  
“How long do you think we have?” He asked.  
“I don’t know, let’s assume not long.” The General said, slipping upstairs and passing Mattie who was on his way down with his things. Kuma was in his arms and he fiddled with the front paw worriedly as Grandpa began pacing, dumping his things next to Peter on the couch.  
“We were so careful, how could this have happened?” He wondered aloud, “And it’s so early into the run we shouldn’t have needed to worry about something like this yet.”  
“There’s your mistake!” Gerhalt groaned from the second floor, “You got complacent!”  
“Well then you did too!” Grandpa spat.  
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting for this day!” Gerhalt laughed, cracking his knuckles.  
“No! No, none of that!” Grandpa cried, “We’re not dying here! We’re getting out.”  
“Then it’s gonna have to be hella smooth and hella soon.” Gerhalt said, “They’re gonna try and stop us the moment we drive off, it’d be better if we did it all at once.”  
“Suppose they have the house surrounded?”  
Gerhalt snapped his fingers at Ludwig, who was dragging his own bag down, “Go watch the front window. First sign of trouble, you shout, got it?”  
“Got it.” Ludwig said, dropping his things beside Mattie, who’d taken to leaning against the easy chair. Mattie looked pale as stone, sitting just as rigidly. He bit his lip, watching the other people in the room one by one as Grandpa began to pace again, increasing speed.  
The General thunked back down the stairs, followed closely by Ivan and Lovino.  
“Alright that’s everyone and everything. I’m guessing we have mere minutes before someone comes knocking on that door.” The General said.  
“Then we’re leaving now.” Grandpa sighed, “Gerhalt and I’ll take my car, you take Gerhalt’s. Ludwig, Peter, and Wendy go with you, we’ll take the other three.”  
Gerhalt cast a sidelong glance at Grandpa, leaning in close to whisper, “You know… this may be a sort of golden opportunity.”  
“For?” Grandpa hissed.  
“Well, do we really need all six of them?”  
Grandpa gave a heated snort and rolled his eyes, “I’m not doing this right now-let’s go before we’re all in police custody.”  
“I’m just saying-“  
“You’re not saying anything helpful, so shutup.” Grandpa snapped before turning to his kids, “Alright, all of you, now, to the front door.”  
“Don’t you think they’re waiting?” Gerhalt wondered, gesturing to the front door, where undoubtedly cops were lying in wait for them.  
Grandpa reached out and violently pulled the blinds along the side windows near the door down before turning to Gerhalt, “I don’t see a soul out there.”  
“Doesn’t mean they’re not in their cars.”  
“Which is why we have to run if this is gonna work.” Grandpa said, gripping his own bag harder. He turned to the kids, all watching him closely, “When I open this door, run as fast as you can to the car I said you’d be in. If you get left behind we will come find you… and punish you. Understand?”  
A fierce, terrified nod issued from all six heads and Grandpa smirked in approval. He turned back to the window, reaching out to grip the front door’s handle as he took another cautious look outside.  
“Alright,” he breathed, steeling himself, “Go!”  
As one, everyone poured from the front door and beelined for the cars. They tumbled in, not caring who went where or with who’s stuff. Mattie ended up with most of the bags on his lap or around his legs, Ivan and Lovino pressed to either side of him as Grandpa and Gerhalt climbed into the front of the car. They started it up, Gerhalt twisted in his seat to watch their surroundings as they began to pull out.  
Almost immediately a man with a long dark ponytail hopped out of one of the cars parked along the street, flashing something rectangular in one hand and a gun in the other. He was shouting but Grandpa floored it and the car sped away. Gunshots rang out and all three kids covered their heads, expecting a bullet to strike them in the neck or something.  
Beside their car, the General matched speed with Grandpa, and you could see Peter, Wendy, and Ludwig watching with wide, terrified eyes as more bullets rang out in protest of their escape. Several other cars were behind them now, and Mattie had time to glance only once at the other car before the General turned down a different road and Ludwig, Wendy, and Peter disappeared.


	23. Chapter 23

It felt like a vacuum had been shoved down his throat and switched on. The cars, both of them, were speeding away with those kids inside.  
Peter… Wendy… Matthew… they were gone and Yao had barely even seen them leave the house.  
It felt like he was underwater, the adrenaline flooding his system but with no clear goal he was lost. He turned to his car but noticed Sadik was climbing out, cocking his gun.  
“What are you doing?” Yao frowned.  
“Heracles and Li didn’t come out.” He grunted before tearing up the drive towards the door. Yao held back a moment, torn between giving chase and helping his fellow officers. If they’d tipped the bad guys off… what did that mean they’d done to his officers?  
Punching the hood of his car in frustration, Yao cursed before following after Sadik.  
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The General jerked the car so hard to the left they barely cleared the stop sign as they drove up on the curb, throwing Ludwig, Wendy, and Peter hard into the car door behind him. Police cars screamed behind him, hurrying to turn so as not to lose them.  
Ludwig rubbed his shoulder where he’d banged it pretty hard, turning to look as they again jerked to the left and he felt their speed increase. Peter was sitting on his knees, watching through the back window as the cars chased after them, waving and shouting.  
“Hurry! We’re here!” He screamed.  
“Hey!” The General growled, turning his attention from the road for a second to reach back and swat at Peter’s back until he turned and sat down, “Don’t do that, you could get hurt!”  
In his distraction, the cars had managed to gain some ground, one of them now close enough Ludwig could make out the figures inside.  
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Yao briefly thought it was a bit unnecessary to kick the front door open-it’d been left hanging unlocked. But Sadik left his boot-print anyway as he and Yao hurried inside.  
It almost looked like no one had ever left, like Sadik and Yao had entered the wrong home almost. They stepped carefully down the hall, going slow and straining to hear for their missing comrades.  
The living room had an open book sitting on the couch, probably the only sign anyone had been here and left in a hurry, but still no sign of the officers. Yao turned towards the stairs, nodding at Sadik to search the kitchen.  
However, he wasn’t even halfway up the steps before he heard Sadik shout, “Found them!”  
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“Turn! Turn dammit!”  
“You told me to go straight!” Grandpa argued.  
“I changed my mind!” Gerhalt snarled, reaching over and turning the steering wheel for Grandpa, “Now turn!”  
Lovino was subsequently crushed as both Ivan and Mattie were thrown into his side and he was pressed hard against the car door. Grandpa was screaming onscenities as Gerhalt jerked the wheel in one direction or another and the car stumbled over curbs and spilled onto the sidewalk before jumping back onto the road. Behind them, the police cars were quick to follow, if slowed from the surprise of the sudden turn.  
“Pedal to the metal gramps! We gotta move it!” Gerhalt cried, turning back to watch the approaching squad cars.  
“I’m trying to not also get us killed!” Grandpa screamed irritably, taking back control of the steering wheel and making another sudden turn.  
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Heracles lay at the bottom of the basement steps unconscious, Li Xiao and Sadik hovering over him. A nasty purple bruise bloomed along the side of his face, dangerously close to his eye. Sadik had his phone pressed tight to his ear, talking a mile a minute while Li Xiao kept two of his fingers pressed to Heracles’ neck.  
“Yes he’s still breathing,” Sadik was saying, glancing down at his partner nervously, “Look, can you just hurry?”  
“Li, stand outside to hail the ambulance down,” Yao ordered, hurrying down the steps, “Don’t let them touch anything unnecessary.”  
“He fell when they kicked us down here, hit his head…” Li Xiao muttered shakily as he stood up, dusting off his pants and hopping over Heracles’ unconscious body. Sadik had snapped his phone shut, grumbling heatedly about idiot phone operators before turning to his partner, biting his lip.  
“Should we move him or something?” He asked, reaching out to squeeze Heracles’ arm, as if that would somehow wake him up.  
“Don’t touch him, we don’t know what could be broken in there.” Yao sighed, reaching out to press his own fingers against the officer’s neck, as if to try and assure himself Heracles was still with them. He’d lost people in this line of work, comrades and civilians alike, but Heracles had been there somehow through most of it. Yao may have mistakenly begun to believe the kid was among the impervious to serious trouble, like how everyone thinks that about people they know, and to see him lying on the floor here was a bit jaunting.  
“Any update on those getaway cars?” Sadik swallowed, probably trying to distract himself with how long the ambulance was taking.  
Yao shook his head, anger reigniting in his chest, “Not a damn word!”  
“We’ll get ‘em, you know that right?” Sadik said.  
Yao couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  
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They were so close! They were practically within reach!  
Peter was on his knees again, waving at the cars as if to urge them forward. Wendy sat beside him, watching from the door window quietly, nervously pulling at the hem of her t-shirt while Ludwig was trying to tug him down before the General started swatting at his back again.  
But if he was distracted, then maybe the police cars would catch up easier. Peter decided it was worth a shot and when he felt those large fingers scratching at his back he pressed himself closer to the back seat and began pounding on the window.  
“I said,” the General growled, “SIT DOWN!” He jerked the car hard, throwing Peter backwards into Ludwig’s lap, cracking his head on the window. Ludwig did his best to right the dazed Peter, and when he tried to get on his knees again Ludwig held him down.  
“It won’t help anything if you get a concussion or something.” He said quietly, “We won’t be able to stop at a doctor or anything to help you.”  
“We will if we get rescued!” Peter argued, trying to squirm out of Ludwig’s grip.  
“Stop! You’re gonna get in trouble!”  
“Shutup!” Peter pushed Ludwig away and got on his knees again. The General snarled, threatening to punish Peter when they got away and Wendy took her brother’s wrist before he could start banging on the window.  
“Sit down.” She said quietly, her eyes looking so dead it broke Peter’s heart.  
“But-“  
“Just sit down. They’re gonna lock you in the closet or something and I’ll be left by myself.” She muttered, “Sit down.”  
Peter looked out the window. The cars had lost some ground as they turned out of the neighborhood and onto the regular street, the General pouring on more speed and dodging cars traveling in front of them left and right like a pro. He could literally feel their rescue slipping away and as Wendy tugged more insistently at his hand he felt himself sliding down the seat to sit beside her. He didn’t watch as cars moved out of the cops way, swerving to and fro and nearly causing several accidents; he didn’t watch as the General sped through an intersection, turning right at the last moment and nearly t-boning a mini-van; and as they approached the highway there was a large truck traveling parallel to them. The General began muttering some prayer under his breath and when he turned to start driving in front of it Peter missed the way it cut the cop cars off, although he certainly heard the loud wail of its horn and thought it mirrored his own feelings.  
Using the truck as a cover, the General crossed several lanes and began weaving in and out of cars until he found an exit. The cops were still hanging on, speeding by as fast as they could but it was easier to lose them now.  
As easy as taking the first exit the General came across and speeding away, cutting off others cars and making his way towards freedom.  
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Loading Heracles into the ambulance seemed to be a kind of rough ordeal, his body bounced on the gurney as it wheeled out the front door before bouncing up and down along the drive and finally jerking this way and that into the vehicle itself. Sadik followed close behind, tossing his gun at Li Xiao before muscling his way past the EMT and sitting down inside the ambulance.  
“I’ll call you from the hospital!” He cried before the doors closed, leaving Yao and Li Xiao alone on an increasingly populated suburban street. Middle-aged men and white haired old women watched the ambulance disappear down the street, screaming it’s sirens as it went, before looking at the two men standing before the house with it’s front door hanging open.  
“What happened?” An older guy with scruffy blonde hair asked, watching the ambulance turn the corner.  
Yao left Li Xiao to answer the oncoming storm of questions, turning to answer his phone as it finally began to vibrate.  
“What happened?” He barked into the receiver.  
His grip tightened around the case, threatening to crack it. The air was again sucked from his lungs, and he felt the rest of him consumed by an overwhelming onslaught of rage. He couldn’t stop the scream that tore through him as he threw the phone down at the road, successfully smashing the screen and denting the case as it popped open, the phone tumbling a few feet onwards.  
“Yao?” Li Xiao frowned as he tore himself from the questions.  
“Don’t let anyone in that house!” Yao snarled, quickly picking up the pieces of his phone and climbing into his own car. He probably shouldn’t have been allowed to drive, his hands were shaking, but he just pressed his foot to the gas pedal and hoped he didn’t hit anyone.  
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They drove for hours even after they lost the cops, turning down back ways and up twisty dirt paths they could only hope lead somewhere. Lovino road in silence alongside Mattie and Ivan, glancing back every once in a while to see if perhaps the squad cars would find them again but nothing appeared in the distance.  
They finally turned back on the highway, driving carefully through rush hour. Gerhalt sat slumped in his seat, fingers pressing madly at his phone texting while Grandpa drove slow, glancing around nervously as if he expected to be jumped by men in police uniforms waving guns.  
“He’s in the Wal-Mart parking lot-turn here.” Gerhalt said suddenly, breaking the silence that once held a firm grip over the car. It resumed once again, Grandpa only giving a curt nod and no one else daring to say a thing afterwards.  
The General sat leaning against the trunk of his car when they pulled up, watching with a smug expression as Grandpa pulled into the parking space right next to him and practically jumped out of the car.  
“Good to see you old friend!” Grandpa laughed, embracing the General as if he hadn’t seen him in years.  
“I beat you.” The General smirked, lightly pushing Grandpa away as Gerhalt climbed out to pat him on the shoulder.  
“Well I thought the focus was more on getting away rather than beating you to some nasty Wal-Mart parking lot.” Grandpa sighed, turning to open the door for his kids, “Out and stretch! Restroom break in a moment!”  
Gerhalt opened the door to the other car, ushering Peter, Wendy, and Ludwig to rejoin the others. Ivan pulled Wendy in for a hug as she climbed out, not seeming to mind it was only half-heartedly returned while Peter watched soberly to their side. Ludwig allowed Lovino to do the same, grinning when Mattie reached out to ruffle his hair.  
“I was certain they might toss you out the window to get more speed.” Ivan joked to Peter, “That smart mouth can be quite a burden.”  
“I’d say the same to you-that must be why we got here first.” Peter sighed, although the joking atmosphere didn’t seem to reflect in his eyes.  
“Peter is so mean!” Ivan sighed, smiling somehow wider.  
“You were right,” Mattie muttered off to the side, “He is good with kids.”  
Lovino nodded, “We should make him in charge of those two-especially now.”  
“But Lovi! That’s your job!” Ludwig said from Lovino’s other side. Lovino smirked and rolled his eyes, reaching over to ruffle Ludwig’s hair again. The poor kid looked like he had a crow’s nest sitting on his head. Ludwig groaned and began swatting at Lovino’s arm to get away but it didn’t do much good, Lovino just came back with more vigor until Ludwig was nearly in a headlock. Probably the only thing that saved him was because Grandpa waltzed forward with arms wide.  
“Alright! Family vacation starts now!”  
“Vacation?” Lovino couldn’t help but frown.  
“Vacation!” Grandpa repeated, “We’re gonna do some traveling, see the sights and stuff.”  
“What sights?” Ivan asked.  
“Well the inside of that Wal-Mart for starters,” Grandpa jerked his thumb in the direction of the front doors, “We need provisions for a good trip!”  
He looped one arm around Lovino’s, “I call Lovi as my store buddy!”  
“Ludwig and Mattie will come with me, Ivan, Wendy, and Peter stay with the General.” Gerhalt barked, marching towards the supermarket.  
It was sorta weird, being surrounded by so many people who had no idea the things that had just happened today. Lovino half-expected someone to somehow recognize them and shout for the police, but no one did. No one paid them the least bit of attention and Grandpa used that to slip the two of the into the bathroom.  
“Sorry,” He said as he disentangled himself from Lovino’s arm, “I’ve been holding it for a while now.”  
Lovino decided to use the opportunity presented to him to take care of his own needs, finishing before Grandpa and finding himself loitering at the sink with cold water running across his hands endlessly. He splashed water across his face, using his shirt to dry it before eventually settling into just staring at his complexion in the glass.  
Had he gotten paler recently? Maybe a tad thinner? His hair was a tad more lackluster than usual but that may have been influenced by the summer months. Overall he appeared tired, a bit worn out, something you didn’t want to be presented as to potential clients. He’d have to do something or else he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Grandpa.  
Speaking of which, the old man had finally reappeared from the rows of stalls, standing against the opposite wall checking his phone before snapping it shut and shoving it into his pocket, looking annoyed.  
Grandpa sighed when he caught sight of Lovino, sliding forward and pressing himself along the boy’s back. He wrapped his arms around Lovino’s waist like a snake, giving a tight squeeze to his middle and burying his nose into the crook of Lovino’s shoulder.  
“You know, no matter what I’ve always thought you smelled the best.” Grandpa remarked, and if Lovino was being completely honest it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever heard the old man say, “I think I’m going to miss that smell.”  
“Miss it?” Lovino frowned.  
Grandpa nodded slowly against the back of Lovino’s neck, “I certaintly don’t want to do it… I hate myself for even letting things get this far.”  
“What are you talking about?”  
“You’re being put up for sale.”  
Lovino felt his blood turn to ice, everything froze and a cold dread clawed it’s way across the bottom of his stomach.  
“I haven’t told Gerhalt or the General yet… I just never found the time, and then those nasty cops showed up and-“  
“Please…” Lovino whispered.  
“Hmm?” Grandpa lifted his head from the back of Lovino’s and gazed at the boy through the mirror, “What is it?”  
Lovino felt like he was being torn slowly in two, and what was left over lit on fire. The very idea of leaving, of really leaving, his friends… to be alone with whoever bought him… it was terrifying. Maybe he’d get lucky and there’d be other people like him around, but probably not. What if he was sold to someone worse than Grandpa and the others? What if the person who bought him… wanted to do things Lovino really didn’t want to do? He could wind up on the black market, torn apart for organs or… he swallowed, unable to complete the thought without his lungs cutting off his air supply as the fear over took him.  
“Please,” He whispered again, turning to face Grandpa directly, “Please don’t get rid of me!”  
Grandpa sighed, looking sympathetic as he began playing with Lovino’s bangs, “To be honest we probably should have done something about you a long time ago, you’re getting a bit old for my kind of market Lovi.”  
“Grandpa please!”  
“It won’t be so bad, you’d only have to serve one client.” Grandpa continued.  
“Please!” Lovino couldn’t stop the desperation from tainting his voice, “Please Grandpa-I’d do anything!”  
“I don’t see why you’re so opposed to it-you can stop living your life as a slut and slip into one of pleasure.” Grandpa smirked, “I bet with a little more training, you’d be the best pet that was ever sold.”  
“I don’t want to be a pet!” Lovino cried, “I… I want to stay with you.”  
“You want to stay with your brothers.”  
Lovino swallowed, hands shaking as he reached up to grip Grandpa’s shirt collar. He widened his eyes, jutted out his lower lip and whispered tearfully,  
“But also you…” He had one chance to hopefully sway Grandpa’s mind.  
Grandpa raised a disbelieving eyebrow.  
“I’m not stupid Lovi,” He sighed, “I know I’ve had to force my love on you boys-who hasn’t? I’ve wished time and time again that the affection you boys showed me came from the bottom of your hearts, but alas…”  
“I can give it to you-for real this time!”  
Grandpa laughed coldly, “You can’t give me anything I can’t already take.”  
Lovino, not seeing much of another option, darted his head forward to catch Grandpa’s lips with his own. He pressed as hard as he could, pushing back the boundaries in his head screaming to stop and in doing so he found it easier to tell his hands to reach out, his legs to tangle around Grandpa’s. The shaking faded gradually as he pressed everything he had into the display and when they broke apart, panting and red faced, he told his mouth to smile hopefully.  
“You don’t have to take it from the willing.” He leaned in to whisper huskily, “Please Grandpa… I can’t leave everyone-especially not you.”  
Grandpa chuckled, resuming brushing his fingers through Lovino’s hair, “Somehow I doubt that.”  
“But,” He continued, sighing, “It’s not like I actually want to get rid of you; you’re special to me Lovi. It’s just we can’t afford for baggage, which you’re quickly becoming.”  
Lovino reached out again, touching and prodding everywhere he learned over the years to make a man feel good, “But surely I could go for a little longer? The more experienced someone is… the more money they could make you right? The better to please you with?”  
Grandpa sighed, a sound between pleasure and exhaustion.  
“Please Grandpa… this is all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever lived for. You and the others, I need you.” Lovino continued, turning the heat up in his voice, “And if you’d just give me the chance… I could show you how grateful I am.”  
Grandpa groaned, managing to whisper as he leaned heavily against Lovino, “Well… I haven’t told Gerhalt or the General yet…”  
Lovino chanced a peck to the man’s cheek. Grandpa reached up, clamping his hands to Lovino’s shoulders and forcing each other apart. Lovino tried not to squeak, afraid he’d pushed to far somehow.  
But Grandpa had a fox-like grin eating his face. He pressed a kiss to Lovino’s forehead before whispering, “You have until we can find a new home to change my mind… or at the very least until your buyer gives me a better offer.”  
It wasn’t what Lovino wanted, but it was time. He could work with that.  
“Now,” Grandpa sighed, tracing circles down Lovino’s arm, “We still have a few minutes before the others will be expecting us… why don’t you start to show me what your ‘real love’ looks like?”  
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Lovino felt cold. The temperature of the wind whipping around him didn’t help, but he was more focused on the internal chill that came along with knowing his future hung in the balance of people he didn’t like, and the only way to keep from ending up somewhere worse was to whore himself day and night.  
It wasn’t like he’d had a choice before, but he’d never had to actively pursue his captor like this before. He was used to Grandpa coming for him, not the other way around.  
The others were waiting at the cars, the doors facing each other standing open so Ludwig and Ivan could sit on the seats while Mattie and Wendy had contented themselves to sitting on the ground. Gerhalt and the General were gathered by the trunk, where everyone’s bags had been shoved inside alongside a few of the groceries.  
Normally, Lovino would have peeled away from Grandpa to rejoin his friends but this time he stayed glued to Grandpa’s side. He kept their arms intertwined and allowed Grandpa’s arm to snake around his waist. Gerhalt and the General both shot the two a look before turning their attention fully to Grandpa.  
“Are we all set?” The auburn haired man wondered, his index finger tracing patterns along Lovino’s waist.  
“Pretty much, we should have enough to live out of the cars for a few days if we have to.” Gerhalt said, closing the trunk.  
“We moved everyone’s bags to your car,” the General went on, “Most of the groceries are in Gerhalt’s car. Just make sure this car isn’t the one that gets pulled over if the cops catch up to us.”  
“No, no, can’t have that,” Grandpa muttered, “So do we have a destination in mind?”  
“They’ll probably be canvasing local hotels and motels,” Gerhalt said, “We were throwing around the idea maybe to just sleep in the cars tonight, have one person driving and just get as far out as possible. Someone’s bound to notice us sooner or later if we stay anywhere in this general vicinity, we’re still to close to the Lake Destino community to be comfortable.”  
“Alright then,” Grandpa nodded, “We’ll drive until we find somewhere a bit more private to set up camp, maybe look into ditching these cars if we have to.”  
“We definitely have to.” The General snorted.  
“That’s disappointing,” Grandpa sighed, “Gerhalt, how long have we shared these old rust buckets? Ten years?”  
“Eleven.”  
“Kinda hate to see them go.”  
“I’m sure you’ll get over it.” The General sighed, “So are we heading out now? Everyone’s finally back.”  
“Positively,” Grandpa grinned, turning to the other kids waiting near the car doors, “Alrighty kids! Time to get this show on the road! Back in the cars!”  
“I’ll go with Peter and Wendy this time!” Ivan announced quickly, standing to stretch his back before climbing back into the General’s car, “Ludwig can ride in the front, right Luddy?”  
“I guess.” Ludwig muttered, crawling out of Gerhalt’s car and opening the passenger door to the General’s.  
“I see you have the party car tonight.” Grandpa grinned as the General merely rolled his eyes.  
“It’s probably for the best,” The white haired old man sighed, “Peter and Wendy are the more recognizable, don’t want them tipping off anyone and getting everything in your trunk exposed.”  
“I doubt anyone wants to read those old notebooks anyway,” Grandpa sighed, watching Wendy and Peter climb over Ivan in the car.  
“I’ll go with you.” Lovino whispered meekly into Grandpa’s shoulder, leaning his head against him.  
“I figured that, considering the other car is kinda full.” Grandpa muttered.  
“I meant… well, I was wondering…” Why was this so easy? Lovino figured he should have felt ashamed for just literally throwing himself at this man when normally he wouldn’t but he couldn’t afford to right now, “Would you want to… ride with me?”  
Grandpa’s face twisted into a mischievous smile, “Mattie! Ride in the front with Gerhalt!”  
Mattie had been watching the two as he waited for Gerhalt to fish the keys out of Grandpa’s pocket, the man to busy wrapping himself around Lovino to bother, and jumped when Grandpa addressed him. He nodded, his eye lingering on Lovino in concern before scurrying to the front and disappearing with a slam of the door.  
Lovino climbed into the back, waiting for Grandpa to climb in after him before he sidled up to the man again. Grandpa grinned, clearly enjoying himself.  
“Don’t get to weird back there.” Gerhalt muttered, slamming his own door and starting the car. They pulled out of the Wal-Mart parking lot, the General’s car close behind as everyone slipped silently back onto the highway and further away from the lake house and the cops that had driven them out of there.  
It wasn’t long into the drive before Lovino, having managed to find a comfortable position leaning against Grandpa and beginning to sink into a doze, was jostled by his seat-partner. Grandpa was watching him with an expectant sort of gaze. His smile was the only reminder Lovino needed about where he currently stood in the man’s eyes. Looking straight ahead, his eyes burning holes into the back of the passenger seat headrest, he reached down to touch Grandpa’s leg. Grandpa chuckled, pulling Lovino close and urged him on further.  
The entire time Mattie only looked back once, quickly turning to face the front again as his nose crinkled in disgust.


	24. Chapter 24

Yao hated cases involving kids.  
He really hated cases involving kids. They were the one thing that managed to get under his skin. At the moment it was a miracle he was driving, all he could see was red and the steering wheel was under threat of cracking.  
The house was a dead end to him. There was nothing in the few notebooks left behind, zipped away in a duffel bag, to say where they could be going. There was nothing on the one laptop they’d recovered; hell there wasn’t so much as a postcard sitting there waiting to be discovered. These bastards were literally in the wind to him, and the anger burned through Yao like a wildfire.  
Kiku was still awake when Yao got home. The lights were dimmed and everything locked up tight, but his son was curled up on the couch instead of his bed with an anime playing on their entertainment center. He’d dragged the dvd player to the side table at his side of the couch, allowing for him to change the discs without the hassle of actually getting up.   
Yao wasn’t very gentle shutting the door, and Kiku jumped when it slammed closed.  
There was a moment, however briefly, that Yao saw something flash across Kiku’s eyes. Perhaps a distant memory, the scene of someone slamming into a room angry and defeated while the boy sat curled up and hidden away. Yao wondered how much hope his son had then, if he’d had any idea of what was to come for him and if he thought it would be good or bad. The thought of his son suffering somewhere was too much, and before Yao even realized what was happening he was draped across Kiku and the two were very, very still.  
Then Kiku, tentatively, wrapped his arms around Yao’s shoulders and settled his head against the older man’s. Neither said a word, just remained silently where they were as the world buzzed around them.  
Eventually Yao pulled away, settling into a more comfortable sitting position and throwing an arm across the couch towards his son. Kiku didn’t ask what happened-he probably didn’t have to-and Yao was never more grateful for the boy’s silence.  
The two would sit there for hours to come, until Kiku made it through all his dvd’s and then Yao would force a smile as he told him to get to bed. Kiku would nod, using a somber and silent smile of his own, and drag his things upstairs. Yao set to replacing the player to its proper spot in the entertainment center before he followed, finding Kiku curled up on one side of Yao’s bed already asleep.  
It was a sort of routine they’d fallen into. Ever since bringing him home, whenever something bad happened to either of them the two ended up sharing a bed. Whether it was Kiku’s or Yao’s depended on who was in need of the other most. Before, it had been a constant thing for Yao to curl up around the boy in Kiku’s bed as his son struggled to sleep, Yao muttering soft lullabies in a desperate bid to help. Now though, while this routine happened less often, it was usually Yao in need of the reassurance that not everything was as horrible as the world seemed to want it to be.  
Brushing his teeth and opting to sleep in shorts and a t-shirt, Yao slipped under the covers and gave Kiku’s shoulder a squeeze before settling in to sleep for the night.  
He’d wake up hours later panting, having dreamt he’d fought off the ruined and abandoned children of past cases. Kiku would stir beside him, turning with his eyes closed and curling around Yao before settling back into his own dreams. Yao would ruffle his hair as his heart slowed, the desperation for air lessening and sleep quick to take over.  
It would be a dreamless sleep until his alarm sounded later that morning.  
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The movement of the car had the ability to lull Ivan to the point of a dreamless slumber most times. Even when Gerhalt decided to play his classic rock stations at a low volume, the guitar and drums screaming for attention underneath a loud and catchy voice. Ivan still found himself letting his eyes slip closed from time to time, the sky changing from midday colors to a more twilight-centered palette during their second day of straight driving. Wendy had been moved to the other car when Peter managed to get on Gerhalt’s last nerve the night before, continually looking around and plastering his face to the window whenever a highway patrol car came near. As punishment, the siblings were separated and Peter had to endure the taunts from Gerhalt as he suggested what Grandpa and the General could do to her when he wasn’t there to protect her. Eventually that had died down as the day progressed, the car managing to lull all three boys into unrestful sleep from time to time.  
Ludwig was awake when Ivan woke for the last time, bouncing the stuffed dog toy’s hind paws on his knees to make it look as though it were dancing. Peter sat in the front passenger seat ahead of Ivan, curled sideways into a loose ball asleep with his mouth hanging ajar. The seatbelt pulled at him, struggling to keep him in place and not crashing forward into Gerhalt’s arm as the man drove into the impendingly long night.  
Ivan quietly inched from his side of the backseat to sit closer to Ludwig, watching for a short while as the dog danced up and down simplisticly across the blonde’s knees. He thought he heard Ludwig muttering quietly under his breath, perhaps talking to or for the dog. Ivan couldn’t help but smile, finding the show fun to watch.  
Eventually Ludwig noticed he had an audience, snapping out of whatever trance he’d lulled himself into and letting the dog drop lifelessly to his lap. Ahead of them, Peter snored softly and Gerhalt turned his music up a few clicks, trying to drown it out. Ivan grinned, plucking the toy from Ludwig’s lap and making it dance again, only this time to the beat of the song currently blaring from the car speakers. He worked to keep the dog’s movement’s in time with the music, making it pop forward and back with the rhythm. Ludwig couldn’t stop a small snicker before he snatched the toy back and caged it protectively in his arms.  
“Have you slept at all?” Ivan whispered. Ludwig shook his head, eyes blinking slowly like sleep was already trying to pull them closed.  
“You should sleep,” Ivan advised.  
Ludwig shrugged, a yawn escaping, “If I sleep then we get wherever we’re going faster-and it’s right back to work.”  
“I know,” Ivan admitted, reaching out to slowly smooth Ludwig’s bangs down, the sensation a calming one that would hopefully drive Ludwig to sleep faster, “But to get where we’re going without sleep? It’ll make everything worse.”  
“You don’t… don’t know that.” Ludwig yawned.  
“I’m positive on that.” Ivan grinned, his fingers leaving Ludwig’s hair and instead pulling him across the seat-should it mean something that it was so easy? It seemed like Ludwig had lost a bit of weight recently…  
Ludwig didn’t seem to have the energy to resist as Ivan pulled him across his lap, using the blanket as a pillow on his legs. As Ludwig settled, the dog pressing close to his chest, Ivan began dragging his fingers through his hair again. He watched as Ludwig’s eyes slowly dragged open and closed, fighting the inevitable until finally his breathing evened out and his eyes slipped shut for the final time. Ivan grinned, leaning his own head back and closing his eyes, trying to keep his fingers combing Ludwig’s hair for as long as possible.  
But eventually… he too… lost the battle, falling into a blissfully dreamless sleep… his fingers falling limp across Ludwig’s head.


	25. Chapter 25

It was a sign of something bad when Roderich didn’t even wave good morning on his way into his office. It only happened when certain cases took a bad turn or he’d had a fight with Elizabeta. And considering Gilbert had eaten dinner with the two of them last night, he knew it wasn’t the latter.  
“Where are you going?” Vash asked flatly when Gilbert stood from his chair.  
“Family reunion, you’re welcome to join.”  
Vash took one glance at the open door leading to the Commisioner’s office and shook his head, “I think I’ll skip the idiot’s beating for today, thanks.”  
“So rude,” Gilbert grinned before turning and heading for Roderich, who sat slumped across his desk looking rather gray.  
“Am I correct to assume you made your dear wife angry on your way out the door this morning?” Gilbert asked in greeting, not waiting for an invitation and sitting in the chair opposite Roderich’s.  
“Good morning Gilbert, and for your unneeded information, no, my wife is still perfectly content with my presence.”  
“Then it’s the sudden increase of our arresting the misguided youth that has you so down?” Gilbert wondered patronizingly, “I mean, why else would you not even wave hello to me on your way in? It must have been something I’ve done.” The cop threw an arm across his face in dramatic woe.  
“Surprisingly, no.” Roderich rolled his eyes, “For once you haven’t managed to set me off.”  
“Then what’s wrong?” Gilbert groaned.  
Roderich sighed, reaching into his phone and swiping his finger across the screen before pulling up an email. In it, Gilbert was greeted by the smiling school photos of Peter and Wendy Micnat, a picture of a blonde kid looking dead in the camera, surrounded by probable party goers, and two hastily snapped shots of beat up looking old cars. Below all of that was details pertaining to the Micnat case, which had been expanded to include a sixteen year old boy named Matthew.  
“They got away.” Gilbert whispered, his mood lowering to on par with Roderich’s.  
“And they were headed this way the last time the police saw them.” Roderich groaned, “But it’s been days since then Gil.”  
“We have to help then!” Gilbert cried, “Put out roadblocks or at least increase patrols-“  
Roderich’s snicker cut him off, “Perhaps you should be doing this job instead of me Gil, you seem to already know what to do.”  
“We have to do something, don’t we?”  
“We do,” Roderich nodded, “We do… but I don’t see how much help it’s going to be.”  
Gilbert sighed, pulling the chair closer to the desk and snatching a red pen from the pencil cup, “Look, see this car? How beat up it is?”  
“Yeah?”  
“They’ve probably dumped it-the other car too-at least, if they’re smart. Which they must be for holding onto these exact kids for years-or they won’t because they’re to sentimental, again, kept the same kids for years, but I’m willing to beat their heads would win out over their hearts in a situation like this.”  
“Alright, so don’t bother trying to chase these cars down, because they’re probably long gone in a ditch or something somewhere.” Roderich stated.  
“Yeah, and these guys, being the evil geniuses they are, probably drove as fast as possible away from the area. If anything they’re already in our jurisdiction or damn well close to it.”  
“Thus my stress…”  
“We should definitely be looking for these kids-probably Matthew the most. The heat was only recently reapplied to him, and they don’t know that. They’d probably send him out for errands so they could watch the Micnats themselves.”  
“And they don’t think he’ll run?”  
“It’s been about seven years right? Stockholm syndrome will have definitely taken hold by now. He’s bound to believe he’s safest with his kidnappers. Especially with the line of work he’s been forced to do.”  
Roderich frowned, glancing back down at the email before rolling his eyes, “I can see your vacation wasn’t spent totally clear of police files.”  
“I have a friend, well I say friend rather loosely, someone I’m well acquainted with over at that precinct. He was willing to at least give me a summary of the case file. Which I’m glad, it’ll help.”  
“Gilbert,” Roderich pushed his phone and the pen Gilbert had been using as a pointer to the desk, making eye contact with his cousin, “Promise me you won’t go looking for these people. Don’t go stirring up trouble and making things worse-“  
“You act like you can’t trust me.”  
Roderich sighed, sounding possibly more exhausted, “I don’t trust your impulses, what you’re liable to do when your emotions get in the way. You take these kinds of cases personally-and I understand,” Gilbert looked ready to yell as Roderich was quick to explain himself, “I completely understand, believe me, but it’s true. You see Ludwig in every case where a kid is involved and… they get at you. Vash tells me all the time you’ll get really low when those kinds of cases go south-“  
“Didn’t take Vash for the gossiping old lady type.”  
“He’s worried.” Roderich said, looking distressed, “We’re all worried.”  
Gilbert rolled his eyes, putting a hand over his heart and raising the other, “I promise I won’t go looking for the kids obviously in danger-even though they’re probably right around the corner.”  
“Gilbert!”  
“You got my point!” Gilbert cried, “I won’t act recklessly.”  
“That’s all I ask.” Roderich snapped.  
“But we still need to search! Especially right now, they could be here or they could be close!”  
“I don’t doubt you Gilbert-and I was already planning to do all you’ve already suggested.”  
“So… so then what?” Gilbert frowned, “Don’t you have anything to add? Something to suggest about these guys? Maybe a way to beat them?”  
“Gilbert,” Roderich sighed in that annoyingly patient voice Gilbert had come to hate over the years, “Besides them possibly making their way towards us, we have nothing to add to the case. We’re no help to anyone.”  
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Alfred had come to school distraught, snapping at everyone who crossed his path. The whole day was spent walking on eggshells around him, doing your best not to make him explode. Kiku had made the mistake of wandering into one or two touchy subjects that day, and as he made his way home he only then realized maybe why Alfred had been unable to remain calm all day.  
Kiku’s father had mentioned how Mr. Kirkland and Mr. Bonnefoy had been demanding updates on the case, on their son, and his father had been unable to dodge a punch or two when the update had been less than what they were hoping for-in fact, the exact opposite.  
Mattie was in the wind again, they’d obtained a description of the cars but it wouldn’t be enough to find him. His father had come home late several times, making the drive to and from different possible hideouts and coming up with nothing to show for it. He was currently reaching out to other police departments, sounding more and more aggravated when they came up with nothing either.  
Turning from his usual route to get home, he cut through one or two neighborhoods until he came upon Alfred’s house where he heard a loud banging from the side of the house. Alfred was there, partially hidden by the side hedges lining the bricks with his baseball bat smashing at the trash bins violently. There were bandages poorly wrapped around his fingers, revealing the bloody knuckles underneath.  
Kiku began to rethink the idea of talking to Alfred when a swing the blond took managed to throw Kiku into his peripheral. Alfred paused after delivering one more blow to the bins and turned to look at Kiku, panting heavily. His eyes were red, a bit of moisture smeared across one cheek.  
“What do you want?” Alfred snapped, wiping at his face.  
“I… I can come back later.”  
“What do you want, Kiku?”  
Kiku bit his lip nervously, the grip on his schoolbag tightening as he stepped back.  
“I… I wanted to see how you were doing…” He muttered, “And… say I’m… sorry.”  
Alfred stared at him, a silence growing between the two that was only punctuated by the sound of him panting from the exertion.  
“Why?” Alfred finally asked, sounding more annoyed and tired than curious.  
Kiku shrugged, finding his shoes more interesting to stare at as he fidgeted in place, “Matthew’s gone. My dad was in charge of the attempt to save him…”  
“I’m mad at your dad, not you.” Alfred snapped, turning back to the bins, “Bring him here to apologize.” He swung again at the bins, managing to send the recycling one onto its side.  
“What happened to your fingers?” Kiku asked.  
“Punched three holes in the drywall, managed to hit a beam on two of them.” Alfred said, turning his full attention to the downed recycling bin, “My dad sent me out here when he heard me cussing.”  
Kiku nodded, not sure what else to say. He was about ready to bid a hasty, and embarrassed, goodbye when Alfred managed to land a hit that put a hole in the bin. Alfred stood crouched over it, panting and silent, before tossing the bin to the grass and casting his gaze to Kiku.  
“So… up for a trip to McD’s?”  
Kiku wasn’t sure how else to reply other than a meek nod. There was still a sort of snapped feel to Alfred’s gaze, his rage still brimming just below the surface. What would happen should Kiku decline?  
“Good, I don’t want to go in there anyway. Pop’s been a mess and Dad can’t get him to stop guzzling the wine bottles with everything.” Alfred said, a sort of heated tone causing Kiku to flinch. Was Alfred truly only angry with his father and not him? Was any of this directed at him, like last time with Matthew’s room?  
Alfred ordered for both of them, letting Kiku scurry to find a table that looked relatively clean. When Alfred approached bearing a tray laden with burgers, fries, and sundaes Kiku wondered if he’d be able to stomach dinner tonight.  
They chewed in silence for a while, neither making eye contact with the other, until Alfred finally set his burger down and swallowed.  
“I see my Pop cry all the time… it was almost constant right after it happened… but I’ve never seen my Dad collapse in the front entrance and break down so badly.”  
Kiku kept his eyes fixed on the tray in front of him. Some upside down ad about a charity or something with that redheaded clown dancing across the paper.  
“He spent all night sobbing, but he had to pull himself together because then my Pop finally lost his fight with his depression and he’s been like a husk ever since.”  
Why was Alfred telling him this? Was he trying to guilt him? Was he supposed to be sorry?  
“I haven’t enjoyed being home much,” Alfred continued, “I don’t know what to do, I’m afraid if I say something they’ll break. Or I’ll break. Maybe we’ll all break together? That wouldn’t be much of a home for Mattie to come home to.”  
Kiku remained silent, staring at that stupid ad and curling his fists tighter and tighter. There had to be something he could say or do, but he didn’t know what.  
“I lost it today though, at school and stuff? I overheard my dad trying to coax my pop to eat breakfast and… I couldn’t listen to it all anymore and just… keep it all bottled up.” Alfred’s voice sounded thicker, like it was getting harder for him to talk or breathe, “I’ve had to keep a lot of crap bottled up. Growing up… because I hated how they looked at each other and at me and at Mattie’s room… at Mattie’s pictures…”  
Kiku chanced a glance upwards and found Alfred had propped his elbows up on the table, folding his hands together so they covered his eyes as he rested his forehead against them. Small drops of water were trailing their way down his cheeks.  
“I did this to them.” He whispered, voice thicker than concrete, “I did this because I had to play hero and couldn’t leave well enough alone. Now my dad’s trying to keep my pop alive pretty much and they both look at me and see Mattie and it just hurts them… so, so freaking much…”  
Kiku realized seeing his friend crying and blaming himself was far worse than his friend beating trashcans and blaming him. In fact he almost wished for that instead.  
Kiku took a deep breath, still not entirely confident in his ability to play comforter, and reached out to touch Alfred’s arm. Alfred flinched at the contact and Kiku recoiled, drawing his hand away and pressing it tight to his own chest.  
“I hate myself so much…”  
Kiku swallowed, “My dad’s going to find something… with as hard as he’s been working he has to.”  
Alfred remained silent, a sniffle tearing free from his nose.  
“And it’s not like he’s stabbing in the dark… he knows what direction they’re headed. He knows who to look for.” Kiku played with the cuff of his jacket, “It’s not the first time he’s saved a kid from something super horrible.”  
“I’m sure he does it all the time…” Alfred hissed, wiping roughly at his eyes as if he were going to try and hide the fact he was crying from Kiku.  
“No, usually he stays away from these cases.” Kiku said, “He hates it when kids get involved, gives him these horrible nightmares and I think he got an ulcer once.”  
“Then what’s he doing?” Alfred mumbled, “Why’d he take Mattie’s?”  
“I think that was just luck of the draw… but I’ve only seen him fight this hard on a case once before. Usually he’d have found them by now, or dealt with whatever the issue is and spent the next couple nights dreaming about all the horrible things that happened to the kids he didn’t bring home.”  
Alfred sniffled, “Wow… this sounds like a cop was a really big mistake in career choice for your dad.”  
“He told me why he became a cop,” Kiku shrugged, picking up a fry and making it wander across the table, “He said he needed to be there, he needed to help people. He told me at first he just liked being the guy on top, no one could push him around… I think he’s still kinda like that. It’s not super obvious, but he likes being the top dog at work among the other officers. But when there’s a kid involved he turns into this crusader. He doesn’t stop until at least the kid is okay.”  
“What about the rest of the case?”  
“Usually the kid is the case… but the rest is left up to old fashioned police work.” Kiku said, “I think kids are my dad’s weakness. He can’t have them on his own; he’s not all that interested in a wife or someone to have his own kids with. He just sort of connects to people on his own regardless of what they would were supposed to do for him.”  
Alfred breathed, a shaky sounding gasp of air, and laid his head down in his arms across the table.  
“Mattie’s not alone you know, he has those kids, and I bet a lot of others.” Kiku said, “People don’t like abusing just… one other.” There was a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, something that twisted the organ around in an almost painful way, “And when you’re not alone… things are a bit more livable.”  
“Are you trying to say he’s having a good time wherever the hell he is?” Alfred asked, an edge to his voice.  
“No,” Kiku shook his head, his hand was beginning to shake as memories flashed through his mind’s eye, “Just that when you aren’t alone in places like that… you have something to hold on to. You’d give up and then you’d be dead to the world. You wouldn’t be getting Matthew back, you’d be getting a living corpse. With a lot… with a ton of issues. And nightmares.”  
“Kiku?”  
Kiku had dropped the fry, taken to watching his twitching fingers instead. He looked up at Alfred and it managed to snap him out of whatever sinking trance he’d wandered into. He smiled at Alfred awkwardly.  
“I know my dad is going to find your brother. And I know it’s going to be your brother.”  
Alfred frowned, “O… okay…”  
“So please stop crying and hold a little bit of hope. It’s better than breaking your fingers; I’m guessing Matthew won’t appreciate that.”  
“Kiku…” Alfred swallowed, “I want to go looking for him again.”  
“And how would we do that?”  
“You’d come?”  
“We’d bring Carlos as well, otherwise you could get hurt.” Kiku grinned, taking his joke as a success when Alfred rolled his eyes and grinned despite himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be on the look out for coming updates about a possible sequel/prequel for this story in the making. I'll be creating a collection and adding this and a short teaser when said teaser is finished being written up (poor Yao, the writer-abuse fairy has smiled upon him).  
> Or general Hetalia updates. I have more stories.


	26. Chapter 26

The neon sign was buzzing loud and obnoxious above Mattie, flickering now and again to cast a mysterious and eerie glow across his body. He leaned against the wall, feeling the corner of the motel’s office building dig into his back as he watched people pass back and forth.  
There were several potential targets, old men who shambled here and there listlessly, a few groups comprised of mainly young adults looking to be on their way to some event the way they buzzed excitedly to each other. Maybe if he were feeling daring enough he’d even approach the married couple walking past, arm and arm and squeezing each other’s hands.  
He settled however, for the tall gangly man who’d been watching him from his truck for the past twenty minutes. Mattie’s eyes connected with his, holding for an obscene amount of time before Mattie jerked his head in the direction of his motel room. The man continued to watch, eyes fixed intensely on him, before he opened the door of his car and climbed out. Mattie sauntered in the direction of room number ten, glancing back now and again in a sultry way to both entice his target and ensure he was following.  
The man sped forward in his direction, looking more like a stereotypical stalker or spree killer. Mattie had to swallow back an urge to run, to get away, and instead twisted the doorknob of the motel room and fell back inside. The man was on him the moment he crossed the threshold, hands in Mattie’s hair and the two fell onto the back of the bed, twisting together into some grotesque human pretzel.  
The man was not gentle or kind, instead he beat what he wanted from Mattie, using his body for his own purposes and nothing more. He was quick at least, moving to get things over with before he was up and out, throwing bills onto the dresser top as if he were paying for shots at a bar and not sexual stimulation from a child.  
Mattie lay there amongst rumpled sheets, hair askew and knotted much like the rest of him, staring at the ceiling. Never before had he felt more dirty then he did now; actively selling himself in order to pay the rent money on the two motel rooms Grandpa had bought.  
The door adjoining rooms ten and nine swung open then, Grandpa standing in the doorway as light flooded into the dark room. He flashed Mattie a tired grin, making his way to the dresser to count up what he’d earned.  
“Fifty bucks, not too shabby I guess.” Grandpa nodded, pushing the bills into his pocket, “Lovi and Luddy should be back any minute with something too, I think we’ll have the next two days paid for if they do a good job.”  
“Then can I sleep?” Mattie asked. He’d been working the area almost all day, with barely anything to show for it except an embarrassing amount of hickeys across his collarbone.  
“One more job, just to make sure.”  
Mattie sighed, that’s what he’d said the last time too.  
“And try to spread out a bit, don’t want to attract to much attention now do we?”  
Mattie sighed, sitting up and running a finger through his hair to try and give it some order. Ivan poked his head through the doorway, a thin jacket wrapped tight around his frame.  
“Ah, take Ivan with you-head down the street to that strip of bars. Perhaps you’ll get lucky.” Grandpa said, pushing past Ivan and closing the door, plunging the two of them into darkness.  
“Well, you heard the man.” Ivan sighed, watching Mattie get out of bed and begin sorting out the disheveled state of his clothes.  
“Yeah, wish I hadn’t though…”  
“Just one job each should be enough-if they’re drunk they’ll be more generous right?”  
“Not necessarily.”  
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There was something heavy flopped on top of him. It breathed, telling Antonio it was alive, and it was flailing, telling Antonio it was probably Feliciano trying to wake him up.  
“Go’way…” He groaned, pulling his covers over his head.  
“Get up already! It’s almost noon!” Feliciano whined.  
“Don’t care.” It was his day off anyway.  
“Alphonso and Emma are gonna be here by two!”  
Well that certainly opened his eyes. Antonio snapped up, throwing Feliciano to the floor with a painful thud.  
“What?” He cried, throwing the blankets off and racing towards the bathroom, “What did you do?!”  
“I invited them over!” Feliciano cried, rubbing his head and coming to stand by the bathroom door after it slammed shut, “You’d have known that if you were paying attention last night! I told you what I was planning!”  
“Why?” Antonio groaned, looking over his appearance. Just-woke up Sexy had not been in his cards this morning; his hair stuck out in different directions, stubble peppered his face, and his eyes looked tired. His forehead had a sheen of oil over it, and he regretted not taking a shower last night when he’d had the chance.  
“Well I thought we hit it off with Alphonso, and you know, the fact he’s hung out with us a couple times after gave me the impression he was a friend of some sort!”  
Antonio rolled his eyes, “You shouldn’t spring these things on me Feli!”  
“I didn’t! As I already told you!” Feliciano snapped as the showerhead burst to life with a cold spray and Antonio cried out in surprise (although he shouldn’t have been, that damn showerhead was a mean old thing).  
Antonio climbed in, fiddling with the knobs until the water turned warm and then he proceeded to speed-scrub himself. He was going to kill Feliciano, the apartment was a mess, he was a mess, hell everything was a mess! Why would the kid invite anyone over?  
Maybe Antonio would get lucky and he’d walk out to discover Feliciano had been cleaning all morning, or even better, Alphonso wouldn’t in fact be coming over because some important something had detained him.  
Dripping wet and skin clean but a bit raw, Antonio emerged from the steam-filled bathroom to find he was wrong on both accounts-the apartment still screamed the need for a maid, and Feliciano was currently on the phone making plans with Emma for when she and Alphonso got here.  
Alphonso…  
Antonio wouldn’t deny there was something there between them. The way the dude grinned, that laugh… it sounded right in Antonio’s ears. He liked being around Alphonso, they gelled in ways he didn’t even gel with Feliciano or Emma and it was intriguing to explore this connection the two of them shared.  
But on the other hand, there was that small yet ever-present part of his heart that wouldn’t surrender to anyone but him. It still remembered being kids and running around laughing and screaming, getting ice-cream on hot summer days and sharing puffy old quilts in the dead of winter. All kids stuff, stuff he did with Feliciano a dozen times too, but with him, with Lovino Vargas (damn him, wherever he may be), it meant a lot more than just two kids having fun.  
It made it a bit difficult hanging around Alphonso, knowing it was totally possible to go there with a guy like that. And yet he couldn’t, no matter how much his brain tried to logic it out to his heart, he couldn’t do it. It felt like it’d be a betrayal of some sort, like breaking a promise he never even had a chance to make.  
“So are you posing for me, or are you trying to mop the floor?”  
Feliciano’s sarcasm snapped Antonio from his thoughts, making him realize he’d left a sizable puddle of water on the kitchen tiles (just adding to the mess, dammit) and was no closer to getting things presentable for company. With a muttered curse he turned back towards his room, trying to find something to wear that didn’t make him look like a total slob (how’d he get so many stains on his t-shirts anyway?).  
The next step was the apartment, running around picking up clothes, towels, rags of all kinds, and shoes dropped lazily across the carpet. Feliciano hopped from spot to spot, straightening and dusting where he could with his shirt sleeves. They ended up throwing a lot of the debris into Feliciano’s room (because he wouldn’t let Antonio throw anything into his own room for some reason), and just as the apartment was transforming into something a responsible pair of people might live in the doorbell sounded.  
“They’re here!” Feliciano sing-songed like the girl from Poltergeist, grinning madly and crooking his head at Antonio before racing for the door with Antonio on his heels.  
“Welcome friends! I invite you to poor-living paradise!” Feliciano cried with a deep bow, swinging the door open to reveal Emma and Alphonso on the other side, looking amused at the greeting. Antonio stood before them a bit awkwardly, giving a forced-half grin when Emma pulled Alphonso through and Feliciano shut the door-the lock clicking with a sort of finality that comes when doom was prevelant.  
“Wow, you guys actually cleaned up?” Emma raised an eyebrow as she marched in, already feeling at home in the small apartment, “I’m impressed.”  
“You’d be surprised what motivates Antonio to speed-clean.” Feliciano grinned, casting glances between Antonio and Alphonso.  
Feliciano, understanding of Antonio’s feelings of course, was also a hard core fan of Alphonso and Antonio’s potential to have a relationship. It seemed like he was watching some TV drama and it stared his roommate and some dude they’d met on a beach. Emma too had firmly secured herself to this bandwagon and it seemed the two were putting all their effort into pushing Antonio and Alphonso together.  
Emma giggled, leading Alphonso towards the couch as Antonio paused to shoot Feliciano an unamused side glare. Antonio waited until Alphonso and Emma had seated themselves before sitting down on the side of Feliciano that was the furthest from the two. He wasn’t blind to the brief shadow of disappointment that crossed Emma’s face but he pretended to be.  
The conversation dwindled into something easy, with everyone grinning amiably and beginning to gel so smoothly it was jarring when Emma’s eyes widened as she checked her phone almost two hours later.  
“Feli!” Emma cried, springing up from the couch, “Feli I forgot!”  
“What?” Feliciano asked.  
“The pizza! I ordered a pizza twenty minutes ago!” Emma said, darting forward and grabbing Feliciano by the arm, “They might give it away or something! We gotta go get it!”  
“You guys opted to not eat Feliciano’s cooking to eat pizza?” Antonio asked, raising an eyebrow, “And when did you order this? I don’t think I saw you do it.”  
“Thus we forgot about it!” Emma whined, “And I’m not wasting almost twenty bucks either!” She pushed Feliciano towards the door, pausing in her demands for them to leave only long enough for him to grab the car keys and slip shoes on, “We’ll be back in a few minutes!”  
Feliciano paused as he walked through the door only long enough to fix Antonio and Alphonso with an amused smirk. Antonio realized Emma had completely ignored his question of how she’d ordered it when they’d been talking, thus he’d been watching her.  
“Behave.” Feliciano commanded before Emma pushed him out the door again and he was sent forward with limbs flailing.  
The door shut and locked behind them, the click of the tumblers releasing unease in Antonio’s gut as he was left completely alone with Alphonso, who had moved from his spot on one side of the couch to the spot beside Antonio.  
“So…” Alphonso started, letting the word hang in the air by itself for a moment.  
“So…” Antonio reiterated, pulling his legs under him.  
This was a great way to start a conversation.  
“Look… I’m sorry.” Antonio sighed after another moment of awkward silence.  
“For?”  
Antonio waved his hand towards the door, “Feliciano and Emma… there’s no pizza they forgot-“  
“Actually I watched Emma order it,” Alphonso said. That at least had Antonio thinking he probably wasn’t as observant as he thought he was, thus restoring faith in a best friend-and wondering what else he was not picking up on around here. “So there was a pizza, just they didn’t forget about it.”  
“That aside,” Antonio swallowed, “They wanted a moment alone for us…”  
“Oh I know,” Alphonso said, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he inched somehow closer, “I asked them for it.”  
“You what?”  
Alphonso leaned forward to rest his chin on Antonio’s shoulder, grinning up like a mischievous cat.  
“I asked Emma and Feli to set up a moment between us, so we could get to know each other better.” That grin was so sappy, those eyes so big… Antonio couldn’t bring himself to even try and stop the groan he issued as he let his head fall to the back of the couch.  
“What?” Alphonso chuckled, sitting up, “To smooth for you?”  
“Yes…” Antonio sighed, “Way to smooth. Way to perfect.”  
Alphonso smirked, pretending to take on arrogant air as he sighed, “Well thank you.”  
“I hate you.”  
“Most do.” Alphonso sighed, “I think they’re just jealous.”  
Antonio rolled his eyes and turned to look at his ceiling. Why him? Why?  
Alphonso hoisted himself up, turning and dropping himself into Antonio’s lap, their faces inches apart. Fingers reached down to thread through hair and Alphonso fixed Antonio with a serious expression.  
“Love me.”  
“If Emma could see you now.” Antonio laughed, pushing Alphonso to the side, landing on the couch before rolling to the floor. Antonio fell further against the couch, doubled over with laughter.  
“You’re beautiful when you laugh.” Alphonso grinned.  
Antonio sighed, reaching out with his foot to run it across Alphonso’s face. Alphonso turned his head to press his face to the foot and Antonio quickly drew away.  
“Alphonso… you know I can’t.”  
“But I can still try.” Alphonso picked himself up off the floor, reseating himself beside Antonio and reaching out to trace his jawline with light fingertips, “And I will try.”  
“Alphonso…”  
Alphonso took Antonio’s hands between his, eyes wide and childlike, “I’ve never met someone more alluring Antonio, no one’s as wonderful as you in my book. Your smile, your laugh, hell even your serious faces are all heartwarming endearments to me.”  
Antonio tried hard not to smirk, “That has to be the most articulate phrasing I’ve ever heard you use.”  
“And there’s more,” Alphonso grinned, “You’re perfect in every way, and I want to fight for your heart. The greater the challenge, the sweeter the reward, and you’ve presented me with the greatest challenge known to man: a taken heart.”  
“Alphonso…”  
“I won’t dream there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, or that there even is an end of the tunnel. I could be wasting my time but better to have loved and lost right? I have a chance, I can see it in the way you look at me when no one else is around, and I’m going to fight for you. Antonio… I want to love you more than anyone ever can. And I want you to love me the same way, if it’s ever possible.”  
Antonio swallowed, what was he supposed to say?  
“I know I can’t erase this first love from your heart, I won’t even try, but I will try to be on par with him. I will try to win you over, because you’re very special to me.”  
“A… Alphonso…”  
Alphonso pulled Antonio forward, locking his arms around Antonio’s back and pressing into a tight embrace. His nose pressed into Antonio’s neck and there was a hand rubbing softly at his back.  
“Just… just give me a moment.” Alphonso pleaded.  
And Antonio remained where he was, because it was better than pulling away from an embrace he’d only dreamed of since he was a kid. It was easier than running away again, and Antonio was beginning to grow tired of running.  
But he did try to imagine it might be a certain someone else in Alphonso’s place, if only for a few moments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, on Fanfiction.net someone finally noticed a small easter egg I slipped in here.   
> A little easter egg that’s bound to come cracking down (see what I did there? Eh? Eh?) on the characters later in the story).  
> If you’re curious as to what it is I invite you to look at the comments. Then go back if you have to because it’s rather subtle but I’m so happy someone noticed!!!! (And no, it’s not about Carlos being Cuba)  
> Night!  
> Link to the reviews so you can play detective --> https://www.fanfiction.net/r/11084848/


	27. Chapter 27

Despite the number of motels they’d been through, Peter found himself a little surprised by the lack of variety in what he saw in each room. They all had the standard beds, dresser, tv, all that stuff; but they also had the same pattern running along the curtains, same disgusting carpets probably hiding more than just the odd stains-and some of the stains even looked the same and in the same places!

This notice in the lack of scenery was something he tried to focus on in moments when being aware of what was going on wasn’t all that preferred. Clients could get loud in the second room Grandpa would rent and Peter’s stomach would turn as he was forced to listen. Sometimes he'd listen as someone whimpered in their sleep. Usually it was Ludwig or Mattie, and usually it was Lovino who got up from the bed he typically shared with Ivan to try and calm them down. A few times it had been Wendy, the two of them tied very tightly to the closet door and lying across the carpet. She’d whimper and shake, sometimes cry out or silently let tears fall across her face.

Peter had tried hugging her the first time she did it, tried to whisper things would be alright but in the disorientation of sleep she’d shriek and beat him back. Lovino had shown him the best way to calm her down had been to run his fingers through her hair, whisper from above her where he wasn’t as close. Sometimes she’d curl towards him, seeking the safety of her brother while other times she’d remain where she was, the sensation of his fingers soothing enough to banish the night terrors.

But Peter had a sneaking suspicion she’d prefer the night terrors over the real thing, a theory only made more relevant when they were both sitting and staring up at Dwight. Dwight’s eyes were fixed on Wendy, who was pressed up as far as she could get against the closet door. Peter snarled when he stepped closer, trying to look more threatening than he probably ever could.

“It’s been a while Darling, I’ve missed you.” Dwight said sweetly, almost as if he cared.

Wendy whimpered.

“Don’t touch her!” Peter shouted, snarling and spitting before he knocked upside the head.

“Shutup!” Gerhalt snarled, flexing his fingers as if prepping to hit the boy again-which he probably was. Peter glowered, moving to sit just in front of his sister, trying to somehow shield her from Dwight’s gaze, convey to her he was here to protect her from further harm.

A glorious lie.

“I must admit,” Dwight sighed with a smirk, “It’s been too long since I last visited-much, much to long.”

“And you can wait longer!” Peter cried before he was hit again.

“You can shut up or you can sleep in the car.” Gerhalt warned. Behind him, Mattie and Ivan watched quietly, looking amazed Peter was feeling so defiant tonight.

“Perhaps he’s jealous?” Dwight snickered, reaching down to tuck Peter’s hair behind his ear, “To bad I prefer girls-“

“Go away!” Peter screamed his loudest yet, and was subsequently punished for it with his body thrown against the wall. Wendy flinched as she listened to the wind escape her brother’s lungs and kept her eyes glued to the carpet. Anything to keep from feeling more pain than necessary…

Grandpa’s head appeared from the door joining the rooms, frowning, “Everything alright?”

“For the most part.” Gerhalt sighed, using his boot to push Peter to the carpet, digging his heel into a cheek, “Pan here thinks he’s going to stop Darling from doing her job if he screams loud enough.”

Grandpa regarded Peter with a cold, tired expression, “Well keep it down-attention is the last thing we need to attract right now. But I’m sure you were all aware of that.”

“Will do boss.” Gerhalt grinned, pressing more weight against Peter’s face. Peter writhed under him, hissing and kicking as he tried to work his way free. He was fairly unsuccessful, and was forced to give up when the pressure against his cheekbone was so painful it was blinding.

Wendy was allowed to be taken into the other room, Grandpa and Lovino quick to give them privacy.

Peter remained where he was on the carpet under Gerhalt’s heel until they came out.

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Wendy’s only thought during the night is a wish for Peter to shut up. Just shut up in general. She has a headache and his annoying screams aren’t helping.

The numbness she’s allowed to wash over her finds it hard to feel gratitude for his attempts at protection, and instead she sits quietly beside him as Grandpa lectures over them and thinks, she’s dirty enough as it is, what’s a little more?

At this point she’s used and useless. Something lower than trash.

What’s the point?

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The strength of a heart was truly tested in times of need.

Or at least, that’s what Katya would tell herself as she watched her employer’s eyes puff up and redden as time passed. Mrs. Micnat would often be found sitting alone in the living room, staring out the window with a small mountain of tissues beside her when Katya was going about her usual cleaning routine. Sometimes her husband would be there, watching his estranged wife mourn, and other times he’d be sequestered safely in the kitchen by himself staring out a window as well. Katya found this a bit odd, and sometimes mused to herself the two should sit together and stare out the window, it was something the two had in common after all.

However the only thing the two seemed to be able to do together, when Mr. Micnat wasn’t staring awkwardly at his wife, was shout at each other. Katya would often walk in from tending to the garden to find the two pitted in a heated argument or a round of hissing insults. Sometimes Mrs. Micnat won, sometimes it was Mr. Micnat, whoever didn’t storm out of the room first.

Today Katya had come back from a lunch break to finish the dusting and instead witnessed the two Micnats screaming and waving their arms violently. She was almost afraid one of them might hit the other and began debating whether or not she should intervene as the volume rose and the insults being hurled were accompanied by spittle and tears.

“I never should have left her with you!” Mr. Micnat was screaming for the hundredth time since he’d arrived.

“You would have dumped Wendy off somewhere else to be someone else’s problem the moment you could!” Mrs. Micnat shouted, “That’s all you ever do! You start things but you can’t finish them!”

It would seem she’d won the argument, as Mr. Micnat began to turn away, planning to storm past Katya and probably upstairs to the safety of the guest room. If his wife hadn’t continued spewing venom that is…

“Just like that,” She sneered, “Just walk away like you always do-you coward!”

Slowly Mr. Micnat turned to look at his wife, cold rage in his eyes, “I’m no coward.”

“Coward!” Mrs. Micnat shrieked, “Coward! Coward!”

“Shutup!”

“It’s true!” She cried, “Why else wouldn’t you have stayed in the first place? Why else couldn’t you handle being a real _father_?”

“You vile witch!” Mr. Micnat cried, but his face was pale and his eyes wide with something Katya suspected to be pain. Mrs. Micnat seemed to have been able to pierce a nerve this time, and now she was tearing into it as hard as she could.

Katya’s employer looked manic, her own eyes blown wide and a wicked grin on her face. It didn’t help her hair was a mess after weeks of running shaking hands through it and her face was wet and puffy from mournful sobbing.

She chuckled, looking Christopher Micnat up and down like a piece of raw meat, “You could never have been a father. I should have figured that out when I introduced you to Peter-you couldn’t be in the room with him for more than a few minutes! He hated you!”

“I barely knew him!”

“I don’t know what I was thinking, bringing another child into this world with you! Let you hurt someone else and you did!”

“I love my daughter!” Mr. Micnat insisted.

“You barely see her!” Mrs. Micnat laughed, “At most it’s a phone call or some stupid toy and that’s it! You weren’t here when she was upstairs with the chickenpox! You weren’t here when she fell and skinned her knee! _You weren’t here when some monster snatched her off the street and took her who knows where!_ ”

“YOU WEREN’T THERE EITHER!”

“But I was a hell of a lot closer than you ever wanted to be!”

Mr. Micnat advanced on Mrs. Micnat, raising his fist and his face twisted into a horrible purple mask of anger. Katya began to go after him, afraid of what he’d do but he stopped just in front of Mrs. Micnat. He stood there, frozen, looking torn between two decisions and then he backed away like he’d been physically burned. His expression deflated and he stared at his wife with nothing but emptiness.

“You’re right.” He whispered brokenly.

Then he turned and walked slowly out of the room.

Katya and Mrs. Micnat listened quietly as he thudded up the stairs and away. There was no storming across the upstairs hall or the slam of a door, just an eerie silence.

Mrs. Micnat’s eyes were glued to the threshold of the living room, where carpet met waxed hardwood flooring and tears flowed from her eyes.

“That’s the expression he wore when he left for good the last time too.” She whispered as she collapsed back on to the sofa.


	28. Chapter 28

“Hey.”

The scene could not have been weirder. Alfred had been getting ready to go home after a long practice, minding his own business not bothering anybody. Then Carlos decided to swagger up and start bothering him. Alfred watched as the larger boy stood in front of him awkwardly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he stood there.

“So… I just wanted to say… well, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Alfred frowned.

“Well, it’s just Kiku happened to mention what happened-I say mentioned but I asked him so don’t, don’t get mad at him. And I… I just feel so guilty man.” Carlos seemed exhausted, like the words or maybe the emotions and thoughts behind the words were taking a physical toll, “I keep wondering if maybe we had fought our way back in or something, maybe we could have saved your brother.”

“I’d like to think we would have but probably not.” Alfred admitted. He’d heard it enough times from both his parents, how foolish even going up there had been. He also had to wonder, if he hadn’t forced Kiku and Carlos into taking him up there, could he possibly have saved his parents all this pain? Maybe Mattie would have been found another way… although what other way had yet to come to mind.

“Anyway,” Carlos said after a rather awkward and pregnant pause between the two, “I was thinking… _when_ Mattie gets back he’s going to need friends-“

“Are you asking for my brother’s hand in marriage or something?” Alfred couldn’t help but remark, feeling like he had to say something because Carlos was just acting _so out of character_ , “Am I arranging a date for my brother when he comes home?”

Carlos rolled his eyes, normally he would have been hitting Alfred for such remarks but today he just smirked dryly.

“I’m saying call me to come hangout with him when he comes home. We could show him around, I’ll make sure he sees the very best our little town has to offer.”

“So the best alleyways for smoking and beating people up. I can’t think of much else to do around here.”

“You know I don’t do that.” Carlos said patiently.

“Do I? I mean it’s not hard to imagine-“

“Whatever burger breath.” Carlos sighed.

Alfred grinned, “Thanks… I guess it’s just nice to hear someone else believes he’ll come home too.”

Carlos grinned and the moment was still awkward, if not a bit less so.

That is until Coach Davie walked through the door and frowned at the two.

“Are we making plans for a future fist fight or having it out right here?” He asked and both boys jumped in surprise at his arrival.

“Neither!” Alfred snapped quickly, “I was just telling this loser he should keep away from me!”

“Yeah whatever, four eyes here thinks he’s so tough but one swipe and I’ll have him screaming for Daddy.”

Coach Davie rolled his eyes but he was sure of what he’d seen through the door window before he’d interrupted whatever moment these two had been having. And the lack of fighting sounds as he walked away only confirmed he was not crazy in thinking the two had reached some sort of truce.

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When Theodore crossed the threshold into the motel room, swiftly shutting and locking the door before turning to Ludwig smiling, Ludwig realized something was off. That smile was a bit to strained, to forced. Whatever lay beneath it was refusing to be concealed, and Theodore didn’t exactly bother to as he pushed Ludwig onto the motel bed and leaned over.

“Feels weird,” He whispered hotly into Ludwig’s ear, his fingers beginning to travel, “I feel like I’m meeting some filthy whore when it’s in a motel room.”

Ludwig allowed himself to be pressed further into the mattress, reaching up to trail his fingers along the side of Theodore’s face as slowly as possible, as Grandpa had shown him to do. Theodore didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture, he snatched Ludwig’s hand and pinned it above his head as a dark shadow crossed his face.

“Don’t touch me, this place is disgusting… you’re disgusting.” Theodore pulled away from Ludwig, looking nauseous, “I can’t do this… you’re just another two-bit whore here. There’s nothing special about you.”

This wasn’t the first time Ludwig was insulted for the things he did, the things he was forced to do, but somehow the insults just seemed to make sense in this particular setting. Or maybe with everything that was going on other things had become difficult to ignore or swallow. He remained sitting where he was, quiet and pained while Theodore paced the room, running a hand over his face.

“No… no this isn’t worth my money. We’re done for the day, possibly for a while.” He stormed towards the door connecting the two rooms where he was met with a waiting Gerhalt.

Gerhalt looked surprised to see Theodore already, his eyebrows raising as he glanced between Ludwig and the client.

“So soon?” He asked, allowing Theodore to pass when the man made for him to move out of the way.

“It’s no different than some cheap disease-ridden skank.” Theodore hissed, “I’ll be happy to do business again once you’ve found a more respectable base of operations.”

“Such a picky customer.” Gerhalt sighed as Ludwig was waved inside the other room, directed to sit on the bed nearby, “Well fine, I guess. But before you go, I don’t believe you paid.”

“We didn’t even do anything.” Theodore said, looking to Ludwig as if the boy would speak out in the man’s defense. Ludwig looked away, finding the bedspread pattern very interesting instead. He heard Theodore scoff over him.

“Mr. Bayern, I’m not sure how you think this works, but to even get in the room you need to be willing to pay.” Gerhalt sighed, although amusement colored his expression.

“But-“

“Now I don’t doubt nothing happened between you and Goldie, so I’m only charging the entry fee this time.”

“How dare-“

“Or I could just break your knees and take whatever’s in your wallet.” Gerhalt suggested, “It’s your choice really.”

Theodore spluttered for a moment or two, looking between Ludwig and Gerhalt as his face colored before plunging his hand into a back pocket and withdrawing his wallet. The middle aged client cast another nasty glance Ludwig’s way before slapping bills into Gerhalt’s palm and storming out the door. Gerhalt turned to glower at Ludwig before retreating into the other room, leaving Ludwig to stay on the bed alone and useless.


	29. Chapter 29

They were just about done with patrol for the day when the call came in there was a drunk man causing trouble in a local bar. This wasn’t an uncommon thing, and Vash rolled his eyes as he made a U-turn while Gilbert groaned. They’d been minutes from the station, mere minutes, and then they would have been home free.  
Instead they were driving up to a row of shops and restaurants, the sun setting behind them as they walked up to the door of the establishment, Dragon’s Pub. Inside had mostly cleared out of customers, the bar virtually empty aside from a drunk man shouting at the bartender, who was shouting back in kind. Between them a tall redheaded man was attempting to play mediator, looking relieved when Vash and Gilbert walked through the door.  
“Thank goodness, I was about to clobber both of them.” He sighed as he approached the officers, “Would you please remove that man from my bar? He’s already driven everyone out.”  
“Gladly.” Gilbert sighed, ready to go home. Together he and Vash approached the man, who’d just snatched up a pair of shot glasses and prepared to hurl them at the bartender before Vash’s hands were on his wrist.  
“Wrong move buddy.” Vash growled, pulling the man’s hands behind his back and securing the handcuffs around his wrists.  
“Let go of me!”   
“Have fun drying out you bastard.” The bartender spat as the shot glasses shattered on the floor.  
“Only if I don’t have to see your ugly face you poor, pathetic little-“  
“If I see you in my bar again I’m calling the cops before you even sit down.” The redhead said, leaning against the bar, “Now get out.”  
“It’s been a pleasure guys,” Gilbert grinned, helping Vash to frog march their capture towards the door. The man fought them, snarling and spitting and screaming, but eventually all three found themselves in the police cruiser. The man leaned against the window, pouting angrily as he watched the scenery go by.  
“Man I hate picking up the drunks.” Gilbert sighed, turning to look back at the man, “Especially the ugly ones.”  
“Keep talking,” The man snarled, “I’ll sue you for harassment.”  
“Go ahead, see how well that sticks.” Vash rolled his eyes, making a left turn.  
“You can’t treat me like this, I’m worth more than the two of you put together.”  
“You’re also drunker than the two of us put together.” Gilbert said, examining his fingernails.  
“It wasn’t even my fault…” The man began to blubber, looking down to his knees, “It was his.”  
“His?” Gilbert frowned. While he hated making these kinds of arrest, they sure did get interesting sometimes (until someone puked in the back of the car, then he hated these arrests even more).  
“He wasn’t him anymore… just a two-bit whore.”  
“Uh… yeah that sucks buddy.”  
“It’s Mr. Bayern to the two of you!” The man snarled, his tears returning to rage. He blubbered in the back seat, “My precious dear… nothing. Disgusting trash…”  
“Buddy you need more than a night in the drunk tank.” Gilbert muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter of the whole dang story! I’m sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking when I was planning out the chapters (it was like two in the morning -_-''') but I’m not gonna upset whatever I’ve got scaled out so here you go…  
> Also… if anyone on here has a tumblr and likes following ask blogs there’s a fairly new cosplay ask blog for Canada and 2P Canada that could use a little attention: http://themapleking.tumblr.com/  
> Only if you want to, but I’d love the support if you’re interested. ^.^ (I’d say that’s what’s been distracting me from getting chapters out but actually Minecraft is a bigger distraction…)  
> (also, can you find the two new characters I've slipped in here?)


	30. Chapter 30

“You’re just another two-bit whore.”

Ludwig ran a finger over the plastic brown eye of his dog, tracing the stitching while the soft fabric ran smoothly under the pad of his finger. In the corner Grandpa and Gerhalt hissed at one another over the General, who sat scribbling across papers and into one of the notebooks. Lovino sat near them, trying to listen in while Ivan and Mattie started another round of cards nearby. They’d invited Ludwig to join in but he just…

Those six words had stuck to him like glue, playing over and over again with no pause. Reminding him of what people really thought of him; what they probably thought of the others too. Maybe even what the others thought of him. They were disgusting, depraved things, the people who get used as examples of what not to do with your life.

“Ludwig!” Gerhalt’s snapping voice pulled him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Gerhalt and the others looking back.

“Come on kid,” The General said, beckoning him forward, “Your turn at bat out there.”

Quickly Ludwig stood up, the sarcastic thought that he was finally being useful crossing his mind. He took the motel key extended to him by Grandpa and started to make for the door before he heard Lovino.

“Shouldn’t someone go with him? It’s getting dark out there.”

“You can if you want.” Gerhalt snorted, “Try not to lose track of him when you pick up your own clients.”

“I can do it myself.” Ludwig huffed, storming towards the door before Lovino had a chance to get up, “I’m not a baby.” He muttered under his breath.

That idea was contradicted when he actually made it onto the more populated streets though, surrounded by people he didn’t recognize and the feeling of being alone set in. He watched couples run by, giggling and laughing, while families passed him at a brisk pace, the kids darting between their parent’s legs.

After he’d managed to travel a good distance from the motel, Ludwig began to look around for potential clients. He’d travelled to a cruddier part of town, in fact he’d hit this area a few times already because it seemed the most promising for business.

Buisness… Ludwig frowned at that. He was drumming up business, but instead of selling cookies door-to-door or running some lemonade stand or offering to mow neighbor’s lawns on the weekends he was enticing men down alleyways and throwing as much innocence and naivety into the act as possible. Seriously, some of these men took one look at him and it was like a sign labeled EASY had been taped to his chest.

That worked out for him though, didn’t it? He was still the one walking back towards the motel with a wad of bills in his pocket.

An oily guy three times Ludwig’s age stepped in his path, eyes narrowed maliciously as he held his hand out. Ludwig had done business once with him already, but who was he to refuse?

“Just another two-bit whore.”

Ludwig swallows as the guy begins to enjoy what he paid for, tries to drive the thought out and focus. He’s improved so much in comparison to before; he doesn’t cry anymore, and people actually want him if the money he’s set before the General night after night is anything to go by. This man could probably even be considered a regular for him while they were still here…

Yeah, Ludwig had improved his game, had made himself useful to the others. Grandpa needed him just as bad as he needed Lovi or Mattie, had made Gerhalt stop teasing him about being a child all the time too. No one could say he didn’t know what he was doing anymore, never mind if he even wanted to know what he was doing.

The man finishes what he wants and Ludwig’s leaning against the wall of the building they’re hiding behind, away from twilight and the rest of the outside world as a wad of cash is pressed into his hand and the man disappears as easily as he’d appeared.

Ludwig is quick to follow after, picking a random yet slightly familiar direction as he continues. If he brings enough money in, maybe they’ll let him take a break or something.

Ludwig stops right there, then shakes his head and begins inwardly chastising himself. A break, a break really? It’s that sort of thinking that made clients like Theodore so much harder. If he wanted a break he’d need a better excuse than just money, and anyway he shouldn’t want a break. He should be perfectly happy raking in as much as possible so everyone can continue to have a place to sleep. He really was good for nothing wasn’t he? Barely able to consider himself a professional and already trying to find ways to weasel out of it. Oh, Gerhalt would love the chance to mock this.

“Just another two-bit whore.”  
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Returning to the motel with a large wad of cash in hand, Ludwig had sunk Ivan’s heart to the pits of his stomach. There was something rather sick about knowing the kid had managed to “preform” so well for those sick men prowling around outside.

Grandpa and Gerhalt had been over the moon, praising the boy for his work before adding the cash to the small nest egg they were growing for when it was time to pick up and move again. Ludwig had been sent to rejoin the rest of them in the other room, where Mattie and Lovi had picked up the card game while Ivan watched and Ludwig lay in a small ball on the room’s second bed. His back was to the rest of them, Ivan couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or not. He didn’t think so, the rise and fall of his torso didn’t suggest it, and he shifted every so often.

Then he thought he heard a sniffle.

Mattie and Lovino glanced towards the bed, but Ivan was the first to move. He picked himself up and moved to Ludwig’s side, reaching out to run a hand through his hair. Ludwig stiffened at the touch but as Ivan continued he eventually fell limp again.

“What’s the matter huh?” Ivan whispered gently, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” Was Ludwig’s whispered reply.

“Don’t lie, I can hear you.”

“I’m not!” Ludwig insisted before sniffling again.

“Then what’s the matter?”

“Nothing…”

“It’s got to be something.”

“Nothing you can fix.”

“I could try.”

Ludwig barked a quiet laugh. He looked up to Ivan, eyes red and bloodshot as he clutched the toy dog to his chest tightly.

“I’m nothing but a two-bit whore. How are you going to fix that?”

Ivan’s hand stilled, his blood turning to ice. The light was gone from Ludwig’s eyes and a dark, cold sneer had replaced it. Ivan swallowed, reaching out and roughly turning Ludwig so he was sitting up, facing Ivan fully. Ludwig cried out at the sudden manhandling and the other two paused their game, watching apprehensively.

Ivan reached out and trapped Ludwig’s head between his hands, pulling him close so he could look him dead in the eyes.

“You are anything but a whore,” Ivan’s voice was shaking but his body was stone-cold rigid, “You are so much more than that and anyone who can’t see that is a fool.”

Ludwig swallowed, his lower lip trembling and his eyes tearing up again but he seemed unconvinced to Ivan still.

“You are a precious, precious child.” Ivan whispered.

_“You are a precious, precious child.” Someone would whisper to him at night, when it was cold and he was small, “You are worth more than the richest man could ever make.”_

“You are worth more than the richest man could ever make.” He muttered to Ludwig, his fingers running soothingly in the boy’s hair and his hands pulling the boy’s forehead to his own, “Please don’t ever think otherwise Ludwig. Please.”

A sob wrenched itself from Ludwig’s throat. Ivan pulled him tight against his chest, his arms beginning to shake as tears broke free of his own eyes. The two rocked back and forth on the bed, Ludwig sobbing limply into Ivan as Ivan tried to remember how to breathe. They were quickly joined by Mattie, eyes glassy and hands shaking. Lovino stood above all of them, one of his hands resting on Ludwig’s head while the other rubbed the back of Mattie’s neck.

_“You are a precious, precious child.” Katya would whisper as they huddled together to sleep, “You are worth more than the richest man could ever make.”_


	31. Chapter 31

The day off had begun slow, Katya fighting to get out of bed as it seemed warmer and softer than usual. The invitation to sleep a bit longer was a powerful one, and one she’d indulged in for far too long already. With a groan she pushed herself up and out of her warm blanket cocoon, starting a day she wished would last forever if she were being honest.  
As she pressed the buttons to start the microwave, a cup of water heating up for oatmeal, it crossed her mind that perhaps she should at least check in on the Micnats today, make sure things weren’t completely going to hell in a hand basket. But with a grimace she dashed all notions of the idea. Usually she loved her job, the pay was good and her employer treated her decently, but lately… the heavy weight of the tragedy that had transpired hung over that house like a rotting corpse. This one day of rest and relaxation was the only thing keeping her going sometimes. Her job had become mentally taxing, the thought of those poor kids…  
The microwave beeped, jarring Katya from her thoughts and she hurried to finish making herself breakfast. Natalya was already at school, having long become self-sufficient in most areas of her life (thankfully), it was really only when a “party-mood” hit that Katya was thrust into the role of guardian these days.  
Before, things had been much different. Katya had played the role of mother well in her opinion, Natalya had made it this far with no lasting psychological issues, she was closed off and guarded around most people but she wasn’t as bad off as other victims of their situation were. She made good grades, did her share of work around the tiny apartment, even managed to pick up the slack when Katya became overwhelmed with the day to day hassles of being the adult. But before, Natalya used to hang on her arm, on her words, on everything Katya did. The two were inseparable not because they were close, but because Natalya was afraid of losing anyone else. Before that she’d hung off…  
Katya was quick to take a bite of the oatmeal, burning her tongue in the process and using the pain as a distraction from her thoughts. Gulping milk straight from the carton (Nat wasn’t home, she didn’t have to know), the pain slowly died down and the next bite of the tan and pink mush was a bit faded. She tried to concentrate on her breakfast, or the ever growing list of things she needed to do with the free time she had-bills to pay, checkbooks to balance, she could even take a look at the car to try and find out what that strange noise had been last night. Anything but…   
But it seemed the damage had already been done, because before she knew it Katya was carefully walking to her closet, rooting around in the back for two large shoeboxes and a heavy beat up photo album. They had a layer of dust sitting on the top, and she began to sneeze as the particles rose to meet her nose. Those boxes only really ever got pulled out when Katya felt like torturing herself, and Natalya when she happened to be home.  
Inside sat small stacks of old photos, most shaky and of poor quality. Growing up on the streets they hadn’t had much but buying disposable cameras (or more accurately, swiping them when no one was looking) had become a fun activity meant to distract from the reality of the situation. Most pictures depicted one or two smiley children, teeth missing and dirt caking their noses. The children varied between the three Braginsky children, the scenery changing from one deplorable setting to the next until you reached the second box where the photos depicted only two young girls. The light was missing from their faces, which were marginally cleaner but sadder. The smaller stood closer to Katya, often hiding the lower half of her face away as she looked up at the camera with large blank eyes.  
The photo album was an amalgamation of both boxes, sharing only the best shots of what Katya considered two periods in her childhood: one with and one without. The ones with, though showing the horrendous conditions of life on the streets, showed smiley faces and a sweet young boy with pale blonde hair and wide innocent eyes. The ones without showcased two small girls alone in the world fear and loneliness evident in their eyes and a sense of loss conveyed through empty, sad stares. The ones without in the photo album eventually tapered off into more modern day shots, ones where it had been easier to smile as life progressed and so did they. Natalya’s school functions, honor roll ceremonies and school-sponsored events that had the two smiling and laughing together. There was a picture of Natalya’s first day of high school, she stood awkwardly outside the building smiling nervously. Katya remembered her little sister had been worried someone would see Katya making such a fuss and tease her later for it, the exact snappy remarks she’d made still lived with Katya to this day; still made her smile whenever she looked at the picture.  
There was a picture near the back of the book, tucked safely among the plastic sleeves as it lay withered and faded from years of abuse from folding and squashing into pockets. Three small children stood underneath an overpass, Ivan’s face the largest as he held the camera up to catch his sisters by surprise, grinning as he snapped the picture. Katya only had time to look surprised, her expression coming off funny but dumb while Natalya had been ready, quickly jumping into a dramatic pose as she laughed.  
It was Katya’s favorite picture.  
It was also the picture taken just two days before the three were picked up and Ivan was lost to them forever.  
The door slammed and Katya jumped, looking wildly around for a clock to try and figure out what time it was. She heard Natalya stomping her way through the apartment, stopping when she came to Katya’s open door.  
She frowned when she saw the open boxes, and it was only then that Katya noticed the thin little tear tracks on her face.  
“Hey,” Katya said quickly, wiping her face and clearing a spot beside her, “How was school?”  
“Why are you looking through those?” Natalya asked, staring at the boxes like they were a dangerous animal.  
“Just… nostalgia.” Katya said, looking down at the photos again, “Want to-“  
But that was all she got out before Natalya disappeared, stomping hurriedly to her room where she slammed the door, heavy metal roaring to life obnoxiously loud.  
~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~  
Today seemed to be an up day.  
Alfred walked downstairs to find his parents in the living room, a classic rock station playing lowly on the radio by the TV and boxes sitting on the couch. The two adults were currently converged beside the mantel, holding a framed photograph that Alfred couldn’t see from the living room doorway.  
His pop muttered something to his dad and the two chuckled, his pop reaching out to wrap an arm around his dad’s waist as they set the photograph down on the mantel together.  
His dad turned quickly to peck his pop on the cheek before turning to see Alfred standing there.  
“Afternoon Alfred,” His dad smiled cheerily, “There’s waffles on the counter if you’re hungry.”  
“Thanks.” Alfred nodded, and when he failed to move quick enough he caught his dad’s eye again as his pop set the frame on the mantle.  
“How was school?” His dad crossed over to the couch, brushing dust off of one of the photographs sitting there and holding it up for his pop. Francis’ brows knit in concentration as he considered the picture before vetoing it and pressing a chaste peck to Arthur’s cheek.  
“We’ll save it for the stairwell,” He muttered before turning back to the pictures lying across the couch cushions.  
They were the pictures that had been boxed up seven years ago, Alfred realized, and some of the photos of more recent times sitting on the mantel had been replaced with those of Alfred’s first day at school, and Mattie’s first bike ride.  
Alfred swallowed painfully as his dad set the first birthday the two brothers had spent in their new home beside the framed wedding photo for Arthur and Francis. A painful thud dropped in his chest and he quickly forged on to the kitchen, finding it impossible to eat but easier to breathe where he didn’t have to look at the framed reminders of loss. That didn’t mean he at least attempted, he dug into a waffle with vigor, channeling his frustration into the ferocity of how he cut through his food and stabbed it with his fork.  
When Mattie had first disappeared, when they’d first had hope, Francis had clung to the school photo they’d used for the missing persons report. He’d hold it like a baby through police interviews, sleepless nights spent drinking and crying, and eventually the small candlelight vigil the neighborhood held.  
However when the case was inevitably declared cold, every picture, every scrap of a reminder of what they’d lost, became another stab to the heart. Francis refused to leave his bed lest he see Mattie’s smiling pictures staring him down. Arthur eventually had to slowly remove anything blonde, violet-eyed, and cheery by himself one day while Alfred was at school.  
Alfred still remembered that day, coming home to see his dad boxing up the last of the pictures, his face gray but eyes red and puffy. The house was silent as a tomb, and as Alfred stood in the doorway to the living room watching his dad tape the box shut somberly he couldn’t bring himself to voice his disapproval. If he was being honest, a small part of him had been glad to see the photos gone. A small selfish part was glad to see them go; the small part that didn’t want to remember it was his fault Mattie was gone in the first place.  
The guilt still flashed through him sometimes, tore him to pieces and left him a quivering mess on the inside.  
He could hear his parents whispering jovially in the living room, and he heard his dad chuckle before there was a yelp and Alfred craned his neck to see his pop had dipped his dad and pressed their lips together. His dad, unaware Alfred was looking, had giggled into the kiss before reaching up to wrap his arms around his pop’s neck. Alfred grimaced at the saturation of sappiness and returned to the food sitting before him.  
“How about this one?” He eventually heard his dad say.  
“Ah, it’s so cute… but I’m not sure, will little Matthieu appreciate seeing his younger self shirtless and mud-splattered on the mantel?”  
“True, best hang this by the stairs as well.”  
Alfred grinned at the memory, he and Mattie had stripped to their underwear and tore outside after three days of non-stop storms. The resulting mud disaster in the backyard had been well documented by his pop after his dad had finished screaming about the mess they’d made of the yard.  
That had been…. about three years before Mattie had disappeared.  
“What do you suppose he’ll say when he sees we’ve put his first Halloween outfit up here near the window?” He heard his dad laugh as Alfred cringed, the two of them had been dressed as little elves. And not the cool Tolkein ones, the kind you see on the Keebler cookie packages.  
“Oh he’s sure to murder us,” His pop laughed, “I can’t wait to see his face.”  
Alfred swallowed the last of his afterschool snack and tossed the dishes into the sink, slinking upstairs. He couldn’t listen anymore as his parents fawned over the captured memories. It seemed, at least for the moment, they had something he couldn’t bring himself to even dare wishing for.  
Hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updates are taking FOREVER. Depression makes everything impossible, not to mention everything around here is breaking, and college classes are HARD when you don't study so....  
> By the way, anyone have any ideas for how to pop keyboard buttons back into place when they break/pop up?


	32. Chapter 32

“Oh Mattie!” Grandpa’s voice sang as he entered the dingy motel room, a newer one the group had recently holed up in after another long stint of driving, “Look who came to visit you!”  
Mattie glanced up from his whispered conversation with Ivan and felt his face drain of color. Behind Grandpa, standing in the doorway, was none other than Kevin. And the dark shadow over his face did not promise his visit to be anything other than torturous.  
“Kevin’s missed you!” Grandpa carried on cheerily, coming to stand beside the boys and tug Mattie to his feet. Ivan’s hand raised weakly to take Mattie’s letting go after only a few seconds and falling uselessly to the bedspread.  
Mattie wanted to cry.  
“I’m sure you could help to de-stress him,” Grandpa continued, throwing an arm around Mattie’s shoulders, “You two are such good friends.”  
Just like that, without a chance to talk his way out of it or plead any of the other boys watching for help, Mattie was forced into the adjacent motel room and locked in with Kevin. Mattie felt the air leaving his lungs, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as memories cropped up of his last visit.  
The pain, the blood, the words…  
The moment they heard the lock click there was a hand gripping Mattie’s shoulder painfully and Kevin’s actions were no longer just memories.  
~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~  
“This guy sounds familiar,” Gilbert said as he followed Vash out of a debriefing with other officers. They were on the way to make the arrest of one Theodore Bayern, a man belonging to the upper middle class and guilty of several traffic fines and being absent from the court date related to said traffic fines.  
“We picked him up for public intoxication a week or so ago.” Vash said as he shrugged on his coat, “He was crying about some ‘precious dear’ he said was a nothing.”  
“Oh yeah! That guy!” Gilbert said as he grinned, “I hate that guy!”  
“Must be why we’re making the arrest.” Vash rolled his eyes. The two had gotten the delight of listening to Mr. Bayern blubber about some chick (or dude if they were honest with themselves; the guy hadn’t made a lick of sense) he’d obviously fallen out of love with all the way to the station. The man hadn’t shut up about how cute and innocent they seemed, how such an image had been ruined somehow and now they were nothing but trash to the man.  
Gilbert hadn’t liked the things he’d heard that night; the descriptions of what had been lost seemed a bit too… odd. There was really no other way of putting it. The man made people uncomfortable or made Gilbert and Vash uncomfortable at the very least. There was something about him, maybe a look in his eye or the way he smiled or just held himself, but something was off. There was an underlying threat beneath that intoxicated whimpering. This man had been touched by darkness in some way, you learn to recognize it growing up the way Gilbert did.  
Gilbert reflected painfully he’d only learned to recognize such darkness too late.  
The house they pulled up to was nice, but empty looking. There wasn’t a car parked outside in the driveway and Gilbert wondered if they were wasting their time coming here first. Maybe this Bayern loser was out somewhere harassing another bar, or looking for another “precious lovely” (Gilbert shuddered).  
Vash rapped violently on the door, announcing their presence and demanding Mr. Bayern open the door. When no answer came Gilbert glanced to Vash, who was coiling himself in preparation to ram against the door. Another minute of nothing and Vash’s head gave a small bob as the signal before together the two kicked the door in and were entering the house.  
There was a clatter from down the hall, like someone was scrambling in the last seconds of seclusion they had. The two officers dashed towards the sound and entered a small bedroom to find Mr. Bayern crouched in front of an entertainment center in his underwear.  
“Good knight…” Gilbert made a retching sound as Vash stepped forward, the warrant in hand.  
“Mr. Bayern you’re under arrest for failure to appear in court and the refusal to pay your traffic fines.” He started, reaching to grab the handcuffs on his belt when his hand stilled, his eyes glancing towards the entertainment center.  
Or more specifically, what was plastered across the TV screen in the entertainment center.  
“Vash?” Gilbert frowned when his partner was quiet, staring at the TV instead of arresting Mr. Bayern, who’d begun to squirm nervously.  
“Gil, take our friend here to the living room.” Vash said evenly.  
“What?”  
“Now.”  
~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~  
There was a sickening SNAP! and Mattie felt spots on his chest blossom with pain under Kevin’s assault. The air knocked out of him, he settled for struggling to breathe and began feebly trying to beat his attacker away while simultaneously shielding the rest of his chest from anymore abuse. This only proved to anger Kevin even further and he reached down to grab Mattie by the upper arms, giving him a violent shake as he leaned close to the boy’s face.  
“Don’t think you can beat me away, I’m not some two-bit trash slut like you!” Kevin sneered, breath assaulting Mattie’s nostrils, “I can snap you like a tooth-pick, break your neck like it was nothing!” His fingers danced their way to Mattie’s throat and began to tighten their grip, “I hold your very life in my hands.”  
Mattie tried to make a sound, any sound, but all he could manage was a breathy moan as he reached up to try and pry the much stronger fingers from around his neck. The efforts were futile, and he was beginning to see spots in his vision. His lungs burned and a sense of panic began to take over everything else, driving Mattie to begin thrashing despite the pain that resulted in his chest. Something was broken there; the way his body shifted didn’t feel quite right. He could taste blood on his tongue, and he had to wonder if this might possibly be what dying felt like.  
Then, without warning, the crushing grip was gone. Mattie fell limply to the stained carpet, coughing and gasping as air rushed into his struggling lungs. Everything hurt, burned in some places and screamed in others. He began to cough, and bright red flecks appeared to join the other stains on the carpet.  
Above him he could hear a struggle, and he looked up in time to see Gerhalt send Kevin crashing into the nightstand, the lamp tumbling down onto Kevin’s shoulder.  
“What the hell man!” Kevin cried.  
“I’m afraid you’re no longer welcome to do business with us Mr. Jameson,” Grandpa sighed as he entered the room, stepping over Matt and coming to stand above Kevin, “Severe damage to my property isn’t good for business-no matter how green your money is.”  
“Are you serious? Just get a new kid. That shouldn’t be a problem for people like you, right?”  
“Nevertheless, you’re too rough-he has other clients you know.” Grandpa sighed, nodding towards Gerhalt.  
“This is bull!” Kevin cried as Gerhalt picked him up by the collar, “You idiots need all the business you can get right now!” He was being dragged to the door, tossed out like yesterday’s trash. The door slammed shut after him, the click satisfying to more than one pair of ears.  
With the excitement receding in Kevin’s absence, Grandpa’s mind was drawn back to the boy laying across the carpet, coughing flecks of blood. Mattie winced when touched, a small whimper escaping as Grandpa tried to assess the damage.  
“Definitely a broken rib there,” Grandpa muttered when he felt the break and Mattie gave a shout.  
“That’s great!” Gerhalt groaned, wiping at his knuckles to clean them of Kevin’s blood.  
~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~  
Gilbert stood awkwardly above Mr. Bayern who was seated on the couch, hands clasped and thumbs twiddling nervously.  
Gilbert didn’t even realize people actually twiddled their thumbs, he’d thought it was just an expression.  
Mr. Bayern’s brow was drenched in sweat, his cheeks flushed and he refused to meet Gilbert’s eye. The man had been allowed to grab pants and a t-shirt before he was forced into the living room and sat down. They could both hear Vash rifling through the bedroom, not being at all gentle as crashes and slamming sounded every few seconds.  
At long last Vash reappeared, looking pale and disgusted.  
“Our friend here was looking to hide these before we cuffed him” He said, holding up a DVD case, “Looks like they all star some rather cute little kiddies if the image on the TV was anything to go by.” He continued, grinning but with an icy edge to his voice. He held the cases out to his partner, who crossed the room and snatched it up to look over before slowly turning to face Mr. Bayern.  
“I knew you were sick.” He said simply before lunging forward. Mr. Bayern gave a yelp of surprise before Gilbert’s fist connected with his face and then his cheek, sending the man crashing to the ground where he spat out a smattering of blood and a tooth. Vash was slow to move, perhaps purposefully, but did stop Gilbert from kicking Mr. Bayern in the groin.  
“Don’t worry Gilbert,” Vash said in a falsely cheery, more vindictive, tone, “I’m sure prison law will be much harsher than you ever could be.” He stooped down to secure the handcuffs around Mr. Bayern’s wrists and helped him from the floor.  
“I’d like to see that,” Gilbert hissed as Vash lead Mr. Bayern from the house, “I was planning on being rather harsh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did well on my midterms yesterday so here's another chapter to celebrate!


	33. Chapter 33

Working late hours did a number on Yao but going home even now, with the sun long set and the precinct nearly empty, would mean the guilt of not working would keep him awake.  
Kiku was sleeping over at Alfred’s anyway, so it wasn’t like he was leaving his son at home alone or anything. If Kiku were there, waiting up for him, maybe he could give himself the excuse of needing to be a parent but as of now, there was only work.  
And there was a lot of it. His targets had been moving around a lot ever since Yao had smoked them from their hideout. Every once in a while a report would come in of them being spotted on a security camera or seen by a cop in passing who knew their description. But never enough to give Yao a solid direction of where to go, nothing useful.  
They were moving in random directions, going north one week and south the next day. Haphazardly and random, they were moving farther away and then closer. Yao had pinned a map of the surrounding counties to his wall and it was littered in random red dots of where they’d been seen.  
When the hotline had been put out the red dots had only gotten more random, and then turned to green dots-places tips said they might be but Yao wasn’t so sure. There were even more of those decorating the map and Yao had to resist the urge to pull his hair out as the frustration overwhelmed him and the phone-which every other call was a tip-made his ears bleed.  
As if on cue the phone began ringing and Yao jumped as the silence was disturbed, cursing inwardly as he picked it up and placed the cold plastic to his ear.  
“This is Detective Wang.”  
“You’re lookin’ for kids right?” Came a guttural, breathy voice.  
“Excuse me?”  
“Kids in prostitution rings or whatever, they were snatched?” It sounded like whoever was calling had been gargling nails.  
“Yes… are you calling to leave a tip on their whereabouts?”  
There was a chuckle from the other end, “Oh yeah, I was just in there.”  
Yao felt bile rising to the back of his throat.  
“All six are still there-“  
“Six?”  
“There’s six kids. Don’t you know that?” There was another chuckle, “Do you people know anything?”  
“Any information you’d have to offer would be greatly appreciated.” Yao said through clenched teeth, the grip on his pen becoming painful.  
“There’s four regulars-Blondie, Cinnamon, Goldie, and Sunny.” The man continued, “There’s two brats hanging around, I think they go by Pan and Darling.”  
“What?” Yao swallowed, exasperation giving way to curiosity.  
“Blondie’s the one with glasses and long hair, Cinnamon’s amber and Goldie’s a little twerp. Sunny could be the oldest, or Cinnamon, and Pan and Darling are younger kids-way younger.”  
Yao felt the bottom of his stomach dropping, the number of hostages-no, victims increasing. He reached over to the small notepad sitting beside his other files, scribbling madly across the paper as the man talked.  
“Goldie’s got the long blonde hair, deep eyes that look purple if you look just right,” The man continued, chuckling softly to what sounded like himself before he said, “He’s built like a twig you could snap in half easily.”  
“And the others?” Yao asked, desperate to not let the nightmares have any more to work with. He could already see in his mind’s eye, kids screaming and broken; crying in pain as whoever was responsible laughed over them.  
“Pan and Darling are the youngest, look maybe eight or ten. One’s blonde the other’s got dark hair and they’re always together. They’re new too, fresh outta wherever these guys get them. They had a lot of fight in them before but it looks like they’ve finally been broken in-well the girl has. The boy not so-”  
“And the suspects, what can you tell me about them?” He couldn’t bear to hear about children anymore.  
“Three guys, right? All kinda middle-aged although one of them looks a lot older- Grandpa, Gerhalt, and General. They don’t tell anyone their real names.”  
“Which one is which?”  
“Grandpa’s the ringleader, Gerhalt looks younger and he’s blonde, and the General is the older guy.”  
“Anything else you can tell me?”  
The man chuckled darkly again, the sound breathy and guttural and wet like there was fluid in his lungs. Yao’s hand was cramping as he scribbled down the location the man whispered to his ear and then the line was a droning buzz as whoever it was hung up.  
Yao sat back in his chair, looking over the paper and then up at the red and green speckled map. His eyes fell on the spot where his suspects were supposed to be.  
It was just over in the next district.  
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Kevin slammed the payphone into its cradle hard, drawing a sense of satisfaction out of the act. He smirked, as if he’d just won a board game against his arch enemy, then turned to limp towards his car.  
He’d have to remember to drive by the motel later, see if there was any activity worth watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To celebrate all this good, have a second chapter! We're now officially past the halfway mark!


	34. Chapter 34

Lovino would be happy if he never had to go on another road trip again.  
Maybe it was the fact that he’d taken too many long drives like this one to find anything appealing in them, maybe it was because he’d been stuck in a car with the ever eloquent Gerhalt, Peter, and Wendy for several hours already and he just couldn’t bring himself to try loving the idea that they were going to be trapped there for a little while more.  
Peter and Wendy half-dozed behind him, leaning against the car windows with their faces pressed to the glass. There was a small line of drool running down Peter’s window and Lovino sighed as he reached back to try and push the boy from the window to the car seat. Peter’s body flopped ungracefully to the upholstery and his head lolled onto his shoulder.  
There was nothing he could do about Wendy though, she was on the other side of the car and his arms weren’t long enough. It looked like it wasn’t a good idea to disturb her though, the girl hadn’t gotten much sleep the past few nights and Lovino worried one bad pothole could wake her up-and then who knew when she’d go back to sleep.  
Normally, after a client, Lovino had taken it upon himself to play the role of caregiver to the others. This had worked in the past with the other three, all four of them clinging to each other in a desperate attempt to survive what anyone could only describe as hell. Being the oldest, the others had always sort of looked to him for support and direction-not that he actively gave direction, but he did hold them at night when the nightmares and bruises from past clients became too much. When the other three got sick it was him doing all the caretaking, bargaining with Gerhalt to get what they needed and let them out of work until the coughing stopped. He’d failed this last time with Ludwig, the fever had hit so suddenly and Lovino had allowed himself to get distracted on nothing. But he still tried to be there for Ludwig afterwards, holding him while the boy slept as he did with everyone else, and trying to keep the blonde boy from losing whatever sanity he still had in this situation of theirs.  
Peter and Wendy didn’t seem to be afraid of losing anything anymore except each other. They clung to one another, or more accurately Peter clung to Wendy. Wendy didn’t do much of anything in the way of trying to cling to anything. She seemed to be freefalling amongst the feelings of fear, abandonment, and pain they’d all struggled with when they’d first become a part of this life.  
Whether it was the first time or the fiftieth, it was never easy for Lovino to watch the light die in someone’s eyes and the color drain from their skin. Which sounded like they were dying, and in a way Lovino supposed they were. They were dying emotionally and spiritually, left as hollow husks of what they once were or could have been. Lovino had taken to wondering what things would have been like if he were… home wasn’t the right word anymore. Home was where the people you grew up with were. His home was a hellhole, so no not home… how about just somewhere safe? He would have a boyfriend, someone who loved him for him and not for his body. Not for the easy sex and the rush of a thrill at doing something immoral and illegal. They’d love him. If he were somewhere safe, he’d smile more. He’d be loud and happy and things would go right for him.  
It was easy to see how things would have been different for Peter and Wendy. They’d still be them. They’d still fight, there’d still be that spark in them-Wendy especially. Maybe they would have escaped by now if they could have worked together. Lovino feels partially responsible for whats happened to them. He didn’t stop that client from walking in and taking Wendy’s innocence. He didn’t stop Grandpa and the others from snatching them off the street. He’s done nothing for or against them, and he feels just as guilty as Grandpa, Gerhalt, and the General should feel. He feels that way for the other three too-it’s one of the many things that like to keep him up at night when all is quiet and there’s nothing to distract from the dark thoughts bubbling in his own head.  
When the car jerks hard to a stop Lovino’s brought back to the present, looking around to see the car stopped at a small gas station beside the road. Behind him, Peter and Wendy were blinking blearily to consciousness and Gerhalt was busy climbing out of the car with his wallet in his hand.  
“If you need to use the restroom now’s the time. I’m not stopping the rest of the day if I can help it.” He said before turning to the gas pump.  
Still tired and confused, Peter and Wendy had to be led inside of the station and towards the back where the bathrooms were crammed into a corner. He gently pushed Wendy through the door of the women’s before trailing after Peter into the mens. The two were quiet while they were in there, and since they had the bathroom to themselves ever sound seemed amplified.  
Peter was still blinking the sleep from his eyes but Lovino’s brain was whirring a mile a minute as the thoughts from earlier persisted.  
Sure he acted as a caretaker for the others, sure he tried to ease the pains and bruises of this lifestyle into something bareable, but what did he really do? He kept the others from wanting to kill themselves so they could endure these horrors another day. He eased them into a life no one wanted to live. He enabled this line of work.  
He was just as dirty as his captors.  
He was just like his captors then, when he thought about it. How many escape plans from Peter had he shot down? How many times had he urged the others to stay together, even if that meant giving up a chance to escape on their own?  
Lovino felt sick as the cold water washed over his hands and he began splashing his face.  
“Are you okay?” Beside him, Peter was staring at Lovino worriedly, reaching out to grip his arm like he might have to steady him.  
“Just carsick.” Lovino muttered, giving the younger boy a weak smile.  
“Want me to tell Gerhalt you need a minute?”  
Lovino smiled tightly, “He’d probably rather just leave me.”  
Whatever Peter said after that was drowned out by a roaring in Lovino’s ears as alarm bells sounded and light bulbs flashed in his mind’s eye. A hollow feeling filled his stomach, arms, and legs while a weight settled in his lungs. Peter had to lead him out of the bathroom, where they found Wendy waiting nervously near the doors. She’d glance towards the cashier every now and again and then at Gerhalt’s waiting car. Gerhalt was sitting inside, staring at the gas station windows like he could see the three of them and thought they were planning something.  
Well, he wasn’t wrong.  
“What took so long?” Wendy asked as the door to the men’s room slammed shut.  
“Lovi’s sick.”  
“What’re we going to do?”  
Lovino was thrown from his thoughts for a second, surprised these two were rushing to pick up the slack of caretaker for a caretaker. He was touched, his heart ripping in two at the mix of emotions-joy and affection for these two kids, and crippling guilt for himself.  
“I’ll be alright, it’s obviously not my first road trip.” Lovino grinned at the two of them, leaning down so all three were eyelevel.  
“I don’t think this road trip is ever going to end.” Peter groaned.  
“No, probably not.” Lovino agreed, “I’ve been on the road for years, and I’ve seen some weirdly interesting things.”  
Both of the kid’s faces screwed up in disgust.  
“Keep those stories to yourself.” Peter said, giving a playful shove to Lovino’s arm.  
“Fine, fine,” Lovino sighed dramatically before straightening up, “Now wait here.”  
“Why?” Was the first question out of both the kid’s mouths.  
Lovino leaned back against the dirty gas station wall and crossed his arms, “I’m gonna try to get Gerhalt to let us buy something to eat.”  
“You think he’d actually let you buy something?”  
“Us buy something, and maybe.” Lovino shrugged, “We’re gonna need to eat eventually. Might as well grab something now and eat on the road. It’d have to be small, like candy or chips or something though.”  
“Wendy likes gummy worms,” Peter said, looking at his sister, “The sour ones are her favorite.”  
A ghost of a smile passed over Wendy’s face but it was gone again. Lovino swallowed hard, digging his hands into his armpits to hide their shaking.  
“I think Gerhalt likes gummy worms too,” Lovino lied smoothly, in reality he’d never cared to learn much about his captors, “He’d probably go for something like that.”  
Peter’s face brightened and he grinned, taking Wendy’s hand and looking at her excitedly. Wendy managed a real smile this time and Lovino found himself wishing he could pause time for a moment or two. He was scared to move, scared to breathe or look the two of them in the eye. He was scared to go outside, although he knew he wouldn’t have a choice, and a part of him was screaming to forget this idiotic idea all together.  
“I…” He breathed deep, forcing his nerves to quiet long enough for him to look at the two children staring at him, “I have to ask him myself though, just the two of us out there alright? It’ll just go smoother if he doesn’t think he has a bunch of people watching him.”  
“I guess that makes sense.” Peter nodded, turning to Wendy, “How long’s it been since you had gummy worms anyway?”  
Wendy shrugged, the pained yet blank look returning to her eyes as she was forced to think about their situation.  
“I-I’m sure it’s been too long.” Lovino said quickly, “Alright, I’ll be right back.”   
He sighed, pushing himself from the wall and turning to go. The urge to puke came and went, his legs filling with lead and the air disappearing from his lungs and leaving him lightheaded. The sun was too bright as he walked outside, the passing cars to loud, and the air to cold. Everything was wrong, there were to many variables, fear was running rampant through everything and Lovino wondered how no one else could feel the palpable tension in the air.  
Gerhalt frowned at his approach, looking around him for the kids.  
“Grandpa told me to tell you, we’re leaving Peter and Wendy here.” Lovino said, voice low and even. He was staring hard at Gerhalt, as if almost somehow asking for Gerhalt to question him.  
Gerhalt snorted, “Really? Is that so?”  
“Yes.” Lovino said, “He wanted to tell you earlier but there just wasn’t time. He said to drop them off at the most remote station we come to and not look back.”  
“And why, pray tell, would he do that?” Gerhalt raised his eyebrow even higher, “That old softie could never bear to abandon a kid-much less kids as young as those two.”  
“He said that in times like these, you can’t afford the extra baggage, especially when it won’t cooperate.” Lovino said and for the first time Gerhalt looked thoughtful.  
“That is true…” He nodded, looking up at Lovino almost surprised, “And you’re okay with that?”  
“I can’t afford any extra baggage either.” Lovino sighed, and for the first time in a while let his mask slip, showing how tired he really was.  
“Well then what are we waiting for?” Gerhalt asked, looking wickedly excited, “Get in.”  
Fluidly, almost hurriedly, Lovino pulled the car door open and slipped into the passenger seat, belting himself in and clenching a fist tight enough to leave half-moon nail marks when he released it as Gerhalt flopped into the driver’s seat. Gerhalt flashed him a grin and Lovino nodded, appearing completely at ease even though he felt like he was dying inside.  
Everything he’s held onto was torn to shreds in that moment, the idea that to keep together is the best way to survive. He’s abandoning their youngest, the ones who need help most.  
No. No he can’t think like that.  
He’s not abandoning them-he’s not!  
Lovino was saving them.  
He was.  
That’s what he told himself as he watched Peter and Wendy tear open the front doors of the gas station, stopping to watch as the car pulled quickly out towards the road and continued, not stopping for them. Lovino tried to convey it all through the shared eye contact, his pain and resentment; his hope for them and tried to communicate this was a blessing not a curse. It was their one chance and he wasn’t letting them waste it.  
But his heart still tore into two as they pulled farther away, away from the kids and away from everything. Charging headlong into more of what Lovino had grown up with, more of what he was used to and they were so very much not.  
He could survive this kind of broken, ugly world. The one opposite the happy one most people are promised at their age.  
They didn’t have to. They didn’t have to do any of this.  
His only hope was that he’d thrown them a life raft instead of a tombstone.  
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The car was pulling away, speeding towards who knew where, and Peter was not in it.  
He was standing next to Wendy in the gas station parking lot, cars zooming around them, watching their car disappear into traffic. He couldn’t even see it anymore, it was just gone.  
They were alone.  
“Peter…” The tight, quivering whimper of Wendy jerks Peter from his vacant staring. He turns to see her eyes are wet and big, her lower lip quivering.  
He reacts without thinking, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly.  
“It’s okay Wendy, it’s okay.” He whispered into her hair as she began to shake. Really it wasn’t okay, nothing could possibly be okay right now. They were alone, they were cold, hungry, and the people they’d been forced to live with had just abandoned them who knew where. What if they got kidnapped again? Or killed? What if they were hit by a car or found by some bigger freak or-  
Wendy had stopped crying and shaking in Peter’s arms and was now looking up at him. Slowly, she reached a hand up to wipe tears from his cheek he hadn’t realized he’d been shedding.  
“It’s okay.” She croaked and Peter’s composure crumpled. He gave a loud sob, letting his head drop to her shoulder where he began to cry loudly. All the pain and frustration filtered into tears and shaking shoulders, Wendy’s arms reaching to hold her big brother more securely. Passersby looked as they walked at the children clinging each other and crying but no one thought to stop and ask why, or tried to get them to stop. Eventually Peter cried himself out, feeling empty and hollow while Wendy sniffled once.  
The two turned to look around their new surroundings, wondering what their next step would be.  
“We could tell the cashier to call the police.” Wendy proposed.  
“We could try walking somewhere.” Peter thought out loud, “What if Gerhalt comes back?”  
“He left without us, do you think he’d come back?” Wendy asked, her eyes growing wide in fear.  
For the first time the idea of this being some sort of test dawned on Peter.  
“Maybe,” He swallowed, “Maybe he’s pranking us, or testing us.”  
“Then we should try to run before he can come back.”  
“He could come back while we wait for someone here.” Peter said, looking out towards the open road waiting for them, “We could start running somewhere.”  
“I don’t see anything anywhere.” Wendy groaned. The car had stopped at one of those remote gas stations, the kind that were a last stop in the movies before the characters went into a desert or the mountains or something.  
“Well I guess we could hide if he comes back while we wait.”  
“Hide where?”  
“The bathroom?” Wendy shrugged, “I doubt a guy would want to go in there.”  
Peter bit his lip, knowing she was right. He didn’t want to be caught dead in the girls bathroom himself.  
“Are you two alright?” The two jumped at the sound of a newcomers voice. Turning, the two looked up and nearly started screaming.  
A police officer was standing there, his badge shining as it caught the sun and a coffee in his hand.  
“I was waiting for you two to go back to your family or your car but you haven’t moved for a while now.” The officer said, “Is everything okay?”  
Peter looked at his sister, squeezing her hand and looking up at the officer.  
“No, everything’s not alright.”  
The officer’s posture stiffened as his instincts called him into action. He removed his police hat and knelt down to be eyelevel with the two of them, “Officer Adnan at your service.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, only 7 days later and already a new chapter-and a much longer one at that!  
> And yes!!!!! I've been dying to get to this chapter!!!!!! There's a few I've been dying to get to, ever since I planned this story out.  
> Anyway, 34 out of 62, we are over the halfway mark so I guess things are going to start looking up?  
> Or go downhill very. Very. FAST.  
> >:)


	35. Chapter 35

She almost took out a nurse’s cart filled with pills in her rush down the hall, weaving between people and darting past doctors. Katya was almost out of breath, she felt like she’d been running all the way from her apartment across town (after her car broke down a block away she had).

It’d been near midnight when she’d gotten the teary, half-intelligible phone call from Mrs. Micnat; the kids had been found.

The kids had been _found_.

Katya felt like she was running on air, but her legs were made of lead. She was overjoyed, relieved, thankful, everything. But she was also terrified.

What had happened to those children? Would they still be the same Peter and Wendy she knew, or had their experiences scarred them beyond recognition?

Would they blame her for their being kidnapped?

Katya came to a stop outside the door the nurse had directed her towards from the nurse’s station and suddenly she was frozen with apprehension. Behind her, Natalya barely stopped short in enough time to avoid colliding with her back.

Natalya made an odd, annoyed huff and reached around Katya to rap shortly on the door. In seconds where solid wood once stood was the tired and unkempt face of Christopher Micnat, who’s scowl turned to a more resigned snarl as he stepped back to let the two girls in. Natalya had to gently prod Katya inside, as Katya’s vision had begun to blur.

In the beds before them lay the sleeping forms of Peter and Wendy, their mother between them and asleep in a chair. Mr. Micnat stalked back towards the window, settling himself against the sill and leaning his head against the cool glass.

At the sound of commotion, Mrs. Micnat had begun to stir; when she saw Katya standing there looking lost and helpless she gave a tired smile, holding her arms out to the housekeeper.

Katya was vaguely aware of the odd, strangled gasp she made as she dove into her employer’s arms, tears finally spilling over onto her cheeks as she held tight to the woman, nearly afraid to let go. If she let go, who else would leave her?

“Shh,” Mrs. Micnat was whispering, carding her fingernails through Katya’s short hair, “Shh, it’s alright now.” She sounded so deliriously tired Katya had to wonder if Mrs. Micnat even knew who it was she was comforting.

“I’m so sorry.” Katya finally thought to mutter between sobs, “I’m so sorry, it’s my fault-it’s all my fault. If I’d thought to check with you sooner-“

“None of that.” Mrs. Micnat snapped, pulling Katya back enough to glare determinedly at her, “Absolutely none of that, alright? They’re home. That’s all I care about Katya, understand?”

Katya gave a small nod and whimper, and then the two women were back to crying and holding onto one another. Behind them Natalya gave an amused snort and Mr. Micnat seemed to have managed to fall asleep against the cold window glass. Neither of the children stirred even when the source of the sobs turned to focus on their sleeping forms.

“They look as pale as death!” Katya whimpered, and Mrs. Micnat squeezed her shoulders as she gave only a single nod.

“They were found outside a gas station,” The teary mother said, “A cop happened to be passing by and he saw the two of them.”

“Did the kidnapper let them go?” Katya wondered, dabbing her eyes with a kleenex offered by Mrs. Micnat.

“Peter thinks so, though Wendy’s terrified it was some sort of test and they’ve failed.” Mrs. Micnat sighed, reaching out to take her daughter’s still hand, “The poor thing refuses to talk about it at all, and it seems if Peter gets too close to revealing something she silences him. We haven’t had the heart to separate them so we can’t ask him anything alone.”

“Do you suppose…?” Katya knew it was probably a question that had been asked several times, and she hated herself for asking it but she had to know how to help a girl she’d come to see as a little sister of sorts. If it had been Natalya-

No. No, she’d promised to never let her thoughts go down that road again. They were safe now, they could sleep at night at the same time and eat food Katya bought with her own money. No more running from shelter to shelter or empty house to abandoned mobile homes. And Katya prided herself on the fact that neither of them had ever come so low as to sell themselves or allow themselves to be taken against their will.

They survived. End of story.

And besides, if she allowed herself to think about Natalya then it wouldn’t be to long before her thoughts turned to…

Mrs. Micnat stared down at the tile floor, her red and puffy eyes darkening.

“They did some tests… and I heard one of the nurses saying Wendy’s behavior when they touch her sometimes might be an indicator…”

“Oh Mrs. Micnat…” Katya could feel the tears resurfacing and behind her  
Natalya, who’d tried to look occupied by examining various things around the room, closed her eyes and shook her head. Mrs. Micnat hushed her housekeeper gently and pulled her into another hug, rubbing slow circles along her back while Natalya turned to lean against the wall only to slide down almost as if in an effort to not be noticed.

When Katya managed to calm down some she leaned back, dabbing her face which was slowly starting to turn red and puffy. Mrs. Micnat smiled kindly at her, taking Katya’s hand and leading it to rest atop Wendy’s.

The feel of the small hand there, still and quiet but warm and alive, somehow seemed to release a great fear this was all a dream. She could reach out and touch something she’d lost, a feeling she’d often thought she’d never get to experience. Wendy was home and safe, and Katya did not plan to lose her again.

~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~

The kids woke up near noon the next day, their faces lighting up in shock to see their housekeeper sitting in their mother’s chair asleep. Their mother had moved herself to a cot someone had dragged in hours before and their father remained by the window, although now he was awake and texting furiously.

The children gave small squeaks of surprise and elation to see Katya, who of course began to cry as she embraced them one by one.

“I’m so sorry,” She gasped between her tears, “I’m so, so sorry! I love you both so much! I could never imagine what I would have done if you didn’t come back!”

“I missed you.” Peter said, his jaw set like he was determined to keep from crying. Wendy had lost that fight long ago and now sobbed openly into her hands. Katya took Peter’s hands and held them firmly, her smile watery but bright.

“Not a day passed where you two didn’t cross my mind.” She managed before the tears took over again, “And now you’re here, where I can love and protect you again.”

She seemed to fail to notice her actual sister still sitting at her spot on the floor by the wall, hair a curtain for her face so no one knew if she were asleep or not.

~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~◊~~

The questions came later, after food was attempted to be consumed but eventually ignored, and Natalya had replaced Mrs. Micnat on the cot. Mr. Micnat now sat on the end of Wendy’s bed, his estranged wife at Peter’s. Katya remained between them, holding both of their hands tightly as two officers stood awkwardly between the beds.

“I understand this is difficult for you,” The first officer said, the one who had found them, Officer Adnan said, “But the more information we can get from the two of you the better we can work to catch the people that did this.”

“You could be real heroes,” His partner added, a long haired and well-built cop with a sleepy expression, Officer Karpusi.

When the children, who would either glance at one another or stare sheepishly at their bedsheets, said nothing Katya squeezed both their hands and their mother turned to the officers.

“Where would you want them to start?” She asked, looking between her children who were looking more and more anxious.

Officer Adnan opened a small notebook to a fresh page and clicked a pen open, “The day you were taken, could you maybe walk us through that day?”

Neither of the kids spoke at first, and then Peter nervously glanced up at Adnan.

“We were walking home from school.” He started, “And this car pulled up to us.”

“Do you remember what it looked like?” Officer Karpusi asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Peter shrugged, “They got new ones.”

“Alright, so a car drove up while you two were walking home together, then what happened?”

“They tried talking to us,” Peter said and Wendy whimpered, “They wanted to give us a ride home and when we said no they… they chased us.”

Wendy was openly crying again, her shoulders shaking and her fists balled up against her eyes. When her father reached out to touch her shoulder she screamed, jumping back and nearly hitting the medical equipment fixed to the wall behind her bed.

The room stood in awkward silence for a moment before Mr. Micnat, face white as a sheet and voice tremored, turned to the officers,

“I think the kids need a little more time. Can we finish this later?”

“Sir, the sooner we talk to them, the sooner we can do something about these people.”

“That detective is supposed to come by at some point anyway right?” Mr. Micnat snapped, “I don’t want my children to have to recite what happened to them over and over, otherwise how can they move past it?”

“Sir…”

“No, I’m sorry but please, let them recover before the detective arrives.”

Sighing heavily, Officer Adnan tipped his police hat in their direction, “We have officers posted outside the door around the clock. No one is allowed inside this room who isn’t already inside without your express permission.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Micnat said, turning from carding through her sons hair to smile at the men, “Thank you so much.”

Wendy, who was still crying but had quieted, managed a small squeak as the officers left and her father got up from her bed. He was soon replaced by her mother who she jumped into the arms of, clinging tightly and shaking.

Peter watched his sister, trying to swallow the lump of guilt in his throat he knew he’d battle for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There honestly is no excuse for taking FOREVER to update so I won't bother. Just hope you guys enjoy the chapters now that I finally got around to updating!!!!!


	36. Chapter 36

The hospital room isn’t nearly as heavily guarded as Yao wished it would be. There was just one officer sitting there; he was playing on his smart phone, sitting in a chair. As Yao approached, the cop looked up to nod at him before returning to his game and Yao couldn’t help the eye roll he gave as he walked in the door, adjusting the messenger bag on his shoulder.

Peter and Wendy Micnat were sharing a room, their mother seated in a chair between the beds as she quietly read a paperback novel. Her hands were shaking, and her eyes were swollen and red, but her smile was bright when she saw the Detective. Wendy lay asleep in her bed, curled beneath the blankets in a tight ball, but Peter was awake. He looked up from his comic book to watch Yao warily as the man greeted his mother amiably and then turned to him.

“Hello Peter,” Yao smiled, extending a hand in greeting, “My name is Detective Wang. I’ve been working on your case.”

“You’ve done a great job so far.” Was Peter’s sarcastic retort.

“Peter!” Came the admonishment from his mother and step-father, who’d holed himself up in the corner of the room by the window. A cot was laid out for him, surrounded by various papers and folders that looked like business reports-business men never truly do stop working it seems. Apparently the housekeeper had been here too, but there was no sign of her now.

“Its fine, its fine, if anything a little sass means your son is strong,” Yao said gently, grinning sheepishly at Peter, “In all honesty you’re right, you and your sister saved yourselves.”

Peter said nothing, made no expression or showed any hint of approval or disapproval to Yao’s statement. In fact he glanced back to his comic book like it was the only thing truly on his mind.

“Peter, I’ll be brief, I know the last thing you want to do is think about recent events but it’s important.” Yao pulled out his badge, stashed between the leather folds was the picture of Matthew Williams, “You’re home safe but there’s another boy we need to look for. I think you may have been in captivity with him?”

Peter studied the photo for a good few minutes before nodding once, “That’s Mattie, he’s really nice. He’s really quiet too.”

Yao released a breath he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding. Matthew was still alive, that was reason enough to celebrate.

“Was there anyone else with you by the time you escaped?” He couldn’t help but ask, and at Peter’s nod he felt that relief crumble into dread.

“Lovino, Ivan, and Ludwig,” Peter said, “They’ve all been there longer than we were.”

Yao nodded, swallowing, “If I brought a collection of photos with the faces of missing kids on them, do you think you could show them to me?”

Peter shrugged, “I guess? That picture of Mattie isn’t all that great if those other pictures are anything like it though.”

“Admittedly it’s a few years old with some age-progression added,” Yao said, “But it’s the best we have at the moment.”

“Why are you only looking for Mattie?” Peter wondered.

“Well to be honest we weren’t aware of just how many people were kidnapped along with you two.” Yao said, “We managed to connect your cases and now apparently I now have to connect three more.”

“They’ve been there a long time,” Peter said, “I think Lovino’s been there the longest.”

“Could you guess his age?”

“Old.” Peter said, and with the lack of facial expression Yao bit back a snort, “Not as old as you but he could pass for a grown up if he wanted to.”

That didn’t sound good, who knew how long that kid had before his captors decided he was dead weight? Why even keep a someone around that long anyway?

“What about the other two?”

“Ivan’s the same age as Mattie, and Ludwig is younger than them but older than me. Wendy was the youngest.”

“And the only girl,” Yao observed.

Peter’s expression clouded at that, “Yeah.”

“Could you tell me a little bit about what happened while you were kidnapped?” Yao asked, “I know it was hard for you earlier but the more details I have to work with the faster I can get to the others before they have to save themselves too.”

Peter blanched at the request, but his mother squeezed his arm and at her reassuring nod he took a steadying breath and looked Detective Yao in the eye.

“Wendy and I were walking home from school when a car pulled up and the people inside tried talking to us. When we tried to leave they followed us and started chasing us.” He could still remember it clearly, the sight of getting chased down as he desperately tried to run away-Grandpa dashing after them on foot especially remained burned in his brain. It would probably haunt his nightmares for years to come.

Yao was scribbling notes down in a small legal pad he’d extracted from his bag, nodding along as Peter spoke.

“When they caught up to us, they put us in the trunk and I don’t know where we went after that.” Peter continued, trying to ignore the sudden burn behind his eyes and in his nose. He was scared to look at his mom, whose grip had strengthened to an almost possessive hold.

Yao nodded, looking up and smiling gently, “What happened when you were taken out of the car?”

“We were at his house,” Peter said, “And there was a party or something going on.”

“Who was at the party?”

“Older people, probably like your age.”

“So old… as… dirt.” Yao said as he scribbled along his pad, smiling when he earned a quiet snort from Peter. His mother chuckled lightly, rubbing her sons arm in encouragement.

“So did they want you to participate in the party?” Yao asked, “Or did they do anything once they got inside?”

“They took us to the basement and locked us in there. We tried to scream for help but no one could hear us over the music.” Peter said, “We were down there by ourselves for a long time until Mattie brought us food.”

“By himself?”

“No, he was with one of those three guys. But Mattie got to stay with us while we ate. We weren’t allowed out of the basement until the next morning.”

“What happened the next morning?”

“Breakfast.” Peter wanted to laugh at how simple it had seemed back then. Just behave and you get food and you get to stay together. Nothing else to worry about, he had thought he could protect his sister back then. Thought he could rescue the both of them if he just waited for the right moment to escape.

“They’d bring us up for meals sometimes and they left us alone for the most part for a while.” Peter said, bringing his head downward to stare into his lap, “They said as long as we behaved we’d be okay.”

“And did you behave?” Yao wondered, sensing a dark turn to the story. Peter’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he pulled his arms in towards himself, hunching over almost into a ball while his mother cooed reassurances at him.

“It was my fault.” Peter’s voice was barely a whisper, “I thought we could make a run for it once but they still grabbed us and… and…”

Yao sighed, fearing what was coming. He set the notepad aside and leaned forward in his chair, “Peter nothing that happened was your fault. You reacted how anyone would react in that situation. In fact, grown men have fared worse in those kinds of situations but you’ve proven you are a strong and brave young boy.”

Peter shook his head, sniffling and when he breathed it was shallow like he was on the verge of tears.

“Sweetie, what happened?” His mother coaxed, “The Detective needs to know.”

“Whatever they did, it’s not your fault.” Yao repeated.

Peter sniffled again and his mother handed him a tissue. He blew into it, the loudest noise in the room, and swallowed, looking sick, “I thought maybe they were gonna beat us up or something but… instead they took us into the bedroom and-“

“Victorrie you don’t have to make him.” Mr. Micnat suddenly said, looking pained.

“-made us watch.”

That stopped the room, everyone currently awake turning to frown at Peter.

“Who did you watch?” Yao asked.

Peter began to look very uncomfortable, “There was a man and Mattie, and he started hitting him and… and then…” He looked at his mother pleadingly, “I don’t wanna say it.”

“You don’t have to, I think we can figure it out.” His step-father said, coming to stand by the foot of his bed.

“Peter, I think we should take a break from your story.” Yao said, turning to rifle through his bag, “But there’s one more thing I want you to do before I let you get some more rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

Yao gently set a large dark binder down in Peter’s lap, opening it to reveal dozens of photos of different people. Each one looked like a mug shot, and beneath each photo there were names and descriptions scribbled on labels.

“This is a book of different people wanted for certain crimes around the country. If you can just look through it, maybe you’ll see the men that did this.”

Peter nodded slowly, thumbing through the plastic pages filled with pictures. His eyes scanned everything carefully, investigating every face for a glimpse of his captors. He was almost through the book when he pointed to one near the back at the top of a page.

“There.” He said, “That’s one of them.”

The man was older, indeed perhaps Yao’s age or even slightly older. He had auburn hair and scruffy stubble along his jaw. He was staring at the camera with the same expressionless face as the other photos but there was this glimmer in his eyes, like there was a fire burning in them.

The name below his photo was Julius Vargas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted two chapters at the same time so make sure you didn't skip one on accident!!!!!! <3


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Intense violence ahead

“Why can’t we at least offer to help?” Gilbert argued for probably the hundredth time and Roderich groaned, falling back in his office chair and adjusting his glasses.

“We have no business getting anywhere near a police investigation that’s not taking place in our own district, let alone our own _city_. And besides what could we offer them? More stale donuts? More clueless cops?”

“More manpower!”

“More bodies getting in the way.”

Gilbert made an angry snarling sound, “Those Micnat kids were found on the edge of our jurisdiction. That cop just got lucky cause he got turned around-you read it in the report yourself!”

“But it’s not our case, and you have no right to mention getting lost while on patrol if I remember correctly.” Roderich snapped, pointing his pen accusingly in Gilbert’s direction, “If something in connection to their case were to magically appear from the sky then I’d already be on the phone. But nothing has, and probably nothing will. Let those cops do their jobs and you do _yours_.”

“But-“

With probably the worst timing anyone could possess, Vash stuck his head into the office looking for Gilbert.

“Are you ready to-ah, I’ll… I’ll wait out here.” He blanched, realizing he’d interrupted another of his cousin’s arguments and quickly ducked back out again. However the damage was already done as the distraction gave Roderich an opening.

“Go on patrol. Do your job and protect _this_ city.” He said, standing up to get the door for Gilbert, “And let the rest of us do ours, okay?”

Not able to think of anything helpful to retort with Gilbert stomped from the office, sparing a dark look for his partner before storming out the door. Vash’s only response was a sympathetic shrug in Roderich’s direction before following. Roderich sighed, closing his office door and collapsing in his chair, glancing at the email holding the report of the Micnat kids.

It wasn’t like Roderich _didn’t_ want to help; it was just there was no legitimate-or believable-way _to_ help. He didn’t know those kids or the people that took them, he didn’t know a lot of the areas they’d been sighted in, and try as he might he wasn’t much of an expert on missing kids.

Except for how it felt, and how you live with something like that every day.

He knew Gilbert saw Ludwig in every kid that went missing. He made them all personal, like if he could find them then he could find him. And he knew it tore his brother apart on every case. Because Ludwig wasn’t the one that was found in the end, and odds were he was never going to be.

He had to chew on his tongue at that thought for a moment before burying himself in work as a means of distraction. Hours flew by and before he knew it there was a knock on his door.

“Come in.” He called, putting the last touches on a report before looking up to see Vash standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“What’s up?” If anything, Roderich had expected to see Gilbert ready for round two.

“I… I think Gil’s right.” Vash said quietly, “I think we need to try and do _something_.”

“What?” Roderich asked, “What could we possibly do?”

Vash stepped further into the office, shutting the door carefully, “We’ve kinda been following the sightings and reports as they’ve come in. And logic argues that if those kids were found just outside our reach, then it stands to reason the people responsible could have possibly come our way.”

“Thus you’re on the lookout for suspicious activity and now this…” Roderich glanced at the wanted paper buried under his reports, “Julius Vargas character.”

“Well,” Vash sighed, “Remember when we used to play war?”

“When we were kids?”

“Yeah. And how part of that game was finding a good hiding spot to be your base?”

“You always ran for the park down the road if I remember correctly.” Roderich said.

“Until Ludwig disappeared and then we were confined to the backyard.” Vash said, “And so I’d hide anywhere from the shed to the treehouse to the attic. But you always hid in the same spot-your closet.”

“So?”

“Well at first I couldn’t find you even when you chose that same spot. You liked staying close to where you were comfortable.”

“Vash, what does this trip down memory lane have to do with anything?”

“It’s the same in perps too,” Vash explained, “They like hiding where they’re most comfortable. And if those kids were found not too far from here I’m willing to bet those guys are still in the area. Maybe just in a new rat hole but still in a setting they know their way around.”

“You want me to call the other precinct up and say _maybe_ their guys are in our area? What good will that do?”

Before Vash had a chance to answer the phone rang. Roderich considered ignoring it but something in his gut told him to answer it, along with Vash’s gesture to go ahead.

Picking the phone up from the cradle Roderich tried to not sound as tired as he was at the end of a work day, “Hello?”

“Lieutenant Edelstein?”

“Yes? Who is this?”

“I’m Detective Wang, I’m from the district over,” The voice said, “I’ve recently uncovered some leads to a case I’m working and it’s pointing towards your jurisdiction. I was hoping we could work together while I investigated.”

Roderich was pretty sure he choked on air or something because he began coughing in surprise, much to Vash’s concern, and he had to fight to shout, “Yes, o-of course. Anything you need we’d be honored to provide.”

“I’m glad,” And suddenly Detective Wang sounded almost as tired as Roderich felt, “I’ll drive over in the morning with some case files if that’s alright?”

“Yes, yes,” Roderich said, reaching up to tug at his hair as what he couldn’t believe was happening, well, _happened_! “I’ll have a conference room set up for you and provide some officers as support.”

“Thank you very much sir, good night.”

“G-good night…” Roderich let the phone drop back to the cradle as the call ended, barely registering Vash calling out to him, “Mm-what?”

“What was that?” Vash asked, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“That was Detective Wang… apparently we do have something to offer his case after all.”

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He knew something was wrong when the car pulled up and only two got out.

Gerhalt’s car had been the last to arrive and Grandpa had started to get worried as the hours ticked by. Now that worry was threatening to vault into a full on panic attack as only Gerhalt and Lovino stepped from the car and there was no sign of their other two passengers.

He slowly approached the two of them and when Gerhalt noticed he nodded in his direction.

“We dumped them at a gas station, though I’m a bit insulted you told _that_ thing your plans and not me.”

Grandpa stopped short, blinking, the wheels turning in his head before a conclusion sprang forward.

Oh no.

He. Wouldn’t. _Dare_.

Evidently he would as _that thing_ stood awkwardly beside Gerhalt instead of bolting into the room like he normally would. He kept his gaze to the ground but guilt radiated off him in thick waves and Grandpa worked to force a smile.

“Timing was a bit of an issue, won’t happen again.” He then reached out to snatch the young naïve idiot of a charge and drag him towards the motel room, “I’m tired, I don’t want to be disturbed. The others are already settled in the other room if you want to join them.”

Lovino didn’t fight him as the two entered the motel room and he was thrown harshly to the dirty carpet. He didn’t fight as Grandpa aimed a kick in his direction and then another. Finally the older man hoisted Lovino up by his collar with a snarl twisting his face into something menacing.

“What the _hell_ did you do?” he hissed before swiping at Lovino’s head. Lovino flinched at the blow but remained quiet, “You’re just lucky I value my _image_ more than I value you or I’d let that meat head wipe you up and down the pavement!” He shoved Lovino onto the bed and backhanded him before he had a chance to sit up.

Lovino was breathing heavily and swallowing blood down from where he’d bit his cheek. He fought to remain silent but couldn’t suppress a small squeak when his groin was kneed as hard as Grandpa could manage.

“Talk!” Grandpa snapped, slapping Lovino so hard he tumbled from the bed and back to the floor.

“I thought… I thought we’re already on the run as it is because of those two, why not give them back?” Lovino managed to get out before he was kicked and ended up nose-deep in the carpet.

“Or maybe you were worried they were going to replace you.” Grandpa hissed, “Guess what, they were!” He punctuated his words with feet to Lovino’s abdomen, “They were more valuable than you could ever be. You lost me an investment!”

“They were slowing us down!”

“You were trying to save them since you can’t save yourself!” Grandpa’s voice was nearing a scream, “Or those little punks in the room next door!”

“I’m sorry!”

Grandpa grabbed Lovino roughly by his bloody jaw, “Oh sweetheart,” He whispered menacingly as he leaned down, “You’re going to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No excuses for taking months to update! Just enjoy T-T


	38. Chapter 38

Detective Wang looked exhausted when he arrived, late, to the station. He was holding a Styrofoam cup of coffee in one hand, a slightly shaking hand, and held files and papers in the other. There were more files under his arm, and he had to make two trips to retrieve a briefcase with even more papers and files. After issuing a friendly greeting to Roderich and being led to a conference room furnished with a white board, he began pinning photos and reports up, drawing lines between connections in the case and labeling each of the photos carefully.

“Detective.” Gilbert said in way of greeting, receiving a distracted nod as he stood and watched the man work.

“Sorry for being late-there was more traffic than usual on the way to my son’s school.” The Detective said, drawing a careful line towards a collection of photos picturing the inside of a house, “I made sure to get as much information from the Micnats while I was interviewing them at the hospital while I was in there, I doubt we’d need to bother them any further.” He referenced his head towards a pad sitting on the conference table behind him, carefully writing the address of the house under the photos.

Gilbert skimmed through the pages of messy yet organized writing, “There are _four_ more kids?” Gilbert frowned, “I thought there was only one other boy.”

Detective Wang shook his head, “Peter Micnat identified three more, and one of them is nearly an adult from what he could tell me.”

 “Could he not be an accomplice?”

“Peter says he’s they were able to escape.” Detective Wang said, capping his marker and finally turning to properly look in the direction of his conversation partner. “If he is an accomplice why would he do that?”

“Cold feet?”

Detective Wang frowned, but nodded slowly as he eased his notepad from Gilbert’s hand and set it on the table, “Officer Beilschmidt… have you lived here long?”

Surprised at the turn in conversation, Gilbert took a moment to answer, “Around the area, yeah.”

Detective Wang nodded slowly, but before he could continue Roderich and Vash entered the room, Roderich closing the door before turning and smiling amiably.

“Good morning Detective,” He said, striding further into the room, “Are you finished setting up?”

Detective Wang turned to extracting a file out of his briefcase, “Nearly. Anything I don’t pin up will stay in this room during the investigation I presume?”

“Of course, of course,” Roderich said, distracted with reading what was already on the board.

When Gilbert caught Detective Wang eyeing him warily again he knew something was up. No specifics of the case had been discussed over the phone, besides a warrant being issued to the entire state of the one suspect they’d been able to identify. The Detective claimed he preferred to air everything out in person, but now he seemed hesitant to do so when Roderich invited him to begin as he sat down.

“Before we get started I feel there’s something I should tell you.” The Detective said, after an awkward moment of silence, his eyes locking on Gilbert, or more specifically, on his name tag.

“And that is?” Roderich frowned, watching from the office chair they’d dragged in.

“The victim list doesn’t stop at the Micnat siblings and Mr. Bonnefoy.” Detective Wang said, his voice even, “Peter and Wendy Micnat were able to identify three more victims while in the custody of their captors-“

“That’s hardly new information,” Gilbert snapped, self-consciously fiddling with his nametag, “You just mentioned that, and the fact some guy phoned in a tip that’s looking more and more accurate over the phone.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mention names.” Detective Wang was quick to say, turning and opening the file in his hand. He began pinning pictures to the room’s whiteboard tensely, “We’re also looking for Ivan Braginsky,” A pale boy with violet eyes that held a cold yet childish expression, “Lovino Vargas,” A computer modified picture of what an olive-skinned boy smiling at the camera would look like at eighteen, “And Ludwig… Beilschmidt.”

Gilbert felt the room somehow begin to spin even though nothing was moving. The air had been sucked from the conference room and he felt lightheaded. He was afraid to move, afraid his knees might give out, so he locked them and stood rigidly still.

“Ludwig… Beilschmidt?” His voice cracked in different places, a hoarse whisper as his brain tried to process what he was seeing.

“Yes,” Detective Wang nodded, “I… the surname isn’t exactly common and when I saw your tag… I remembered looking over his file when this case first started-“

“You’re telling me my baby brother is in a sex slave ring?” Gilbert asked, voice rigid and brittle.

Detective Wang was silent for a moment or two, but then he gave a solemn nod.

Gilbert wasn’t aware he’d grabbed the pencil cup sitting on the conference table but he was aware of it leaving his hands as it sailed through the air, just passing Detective Wang’s left ear and crashing into the office window. The sound caused several people on the other side of the glass to look up, a few craning their necks to try and get a look at what was going on.

“Gilbert!” Roderich cried, shooting to his feet and grabbing at his cousin’s arm. Gilbert said nothing in his defense, merely yanked his arm free as his hands began to shake with rage. Red painted his vision and Roderich and Vash barely had enough time to lock their cousin in Roderich’s office before Gilbert was kicking and screaming at everything in sight. Vash was trying to talk to him, Roderich having slipped back out as the lock clicked, but Gilbert couldn’t hear any of it. He couldn’t stop himself from throwing the knick knacks on the desk at the wall, smashing the cheap vase to the carpet, allowing water and dying plants to spatter all over. There was a ragged, rotting hole in chest, pulsating as it demanded blood but only received distruction. Gilbert tried his best to satiate it by throwing law books at the door, Vash barely having time to jump out of the way.

Nine years. Nine years Gilbert had been tearing the world apart looking for a brother he was terrified he may no longer be able to bring home. Nine years getting wasted at bars when the idea he was truly alone in the world became overwhelming, the memory of a smiling five year old more heart wrenching than heartwarming.

Nine years his brother had been manhandled by depraved men with sick, sick interests. Nine years Ludwig had spent locked in a world that didn’t care if he lived or died, just that he was able to provide some bastard with a good time. Nine years and he was still in the same area this whole time! Nine years of torture and Gilbert could have saved him!

“Beilschmidt!” Vash was shouting, and it was now Gilbert was aware he was pinned to the floor by his partner, his own palm bleeding where it must have smacked down on a broken vase shard during their struggle.

Gilbert’s lack of fight must have signaled to Vash he’d finally gotten his attention, because his partner fixed Gilbert with a determinedly cold, yet still broken look and eased back a bit to let Gilbert slide out from under him and back towards the office wall.

“Are you back?” Vash asked after a moment of silence between them.

“Yeah…” Gilbert whispered a moment or two later, his voice ragged. He was panting as the anger died in his veins and a heavy emptiness settled in its place.

“We’re all upset, okay?” Vash said, “Don’t you think I want to be smashing things up and screaming my head off? And what about Roddy? I’ve never seen him look so lost before Gil-“

“He’s not your guy’s baby brother!” Gilbert shouted.

“But he’s still family!” Vash snapped nearly as loudly, “Gahl, why can’t you ever understand that Gilbert? Ever! Don’t you think Erika and I would have done something if you’d only thought to tell us how bad home was? Roderich would have been happy to let you and Luddy stay in his bedroom! You just had to reach out to us! That’s what families are for!”

“I was doing fine on my own!”

“No you weren’t!” Vash shouted, rising to his feet so he could tower over Gilbert, “You were doing horrible Gilbert and we could all see it! We just didn’t know how bad it really was or we could have done something!”

Vash turned and in a moment of uncharacteristic rage, kicked Roderich’s desk, the loud bang reverberating off the walls, “You never seem to understand! We’re a family dammit! We were supposed to look out for you! We still are! You just have to let us in!”

He turned back to Gilbert, the fire leaving his face for a moment and a more sorrowful expression taking over, “We’ve only ever wanted to help you Gil,” Vash said gently, “From day one you’ve always been a top priority between Roderich and I-and that was before we lost Luddy.”

The words were nothing Gilbert hadn’t heard in some version or another before, yet this time it seemed to be the key to releasing tears. His rage melted to anguish and he found himself curling in on himself sobbing like a small child. He jumped when Vash wrapped his arms around him, but accepted the familial contact as he fell apart harder than he had in a long time. All the while Vash whispered empty promises of things working out and reminders they would always be there for each other. Every word was probably heartfelt, but none of it magically brought his brother back to him so it did little to provide comfort.

Eventually when Gilbert managed to calm down, Vash sat back to assess his emotional state. They could both see Roderich watching from the door window, a tight and blank expression on his face.

Vash held his hand out to Gilbert, “Let’s go find Ludwig.”

“I will kill them.” Gilbert snarled shakily as an answer, taking his cousin’s hand, “I will kill them all.”

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When Ludwig had gone missing Gilbert had been too focused on finding his brother to truly breakdown. Then he’d been too busy trying to survive the hell that was his life to find a quiet corner and release that emotion.

Then he’d let it stew for years as he lived his life, going from punk to policeman and an overworked man teetering on the edge.

Roderich had watched it all, watched his cousin go from tired caretaker to distraught yet determined rebel without a cause. He’d long figured his cousin was headed for some sort of early grave or famous career in crime before he’d done a one-eighty out of the blue to become a cop. Then he was like something out of a crime noir novel, a tired and near-broken cop just one tragedy away from some sort of breakdown.

Finding out what had been happening to his little brother for nine years seemed to have been that trigger.

Honestly, Roderich could care less about his office (for the most part, someone would have to clean that up). He’d had the same inclination to cause as much destruction, but watching Gilbert snap like he had managed to leave Roderich simply feeling exhausted-and he’d only watched.

Vash was much braver than he, the blond man had stayed in the office with Gilbert, riding the tides of his rage and slowly inching closer to the man until he was able to restrain their cousin. Gilbert still managed to cut his palm on a broken piece of vase, but otherwise he came out of the tantrum unscathed. Roderich felt his throat constricting as the two embraced, and for a moment he felt true fear when Vash exhibited his own rage. But it was gone as soon as it had come, and the two were consoling one another.

Out of the corner of his eye, Roderich watched Detective Wang carefully walk from the conference room to stand beside him.

“I think, no matter where your investigation takes you, my cousin won’t let this case rest until you find his brother.” Roderich said as Detective Wang leaned against the wall at his side.

“Ludwig is your cousin?” the Detective frowned.

“Losing that kid inspired a drive for authority in all of us.” Roderich shrugged, “Except for Vash, the blond one in there, I think he was always destined to be something that carries a gun and yells at people.”

“Were you close?” Detective Wang asked, “To Ludwig, I mean.”

“Somewhat,” Roderich answered uneasily, “Not close enough to know everything that was going on, but we knew it was just the two of them against the world for the most part. I tried my best to look out for him after… after that.”

Detective Wang nodded, watching the rest of the bullpen try not to notice something was obviously going on in the Lieutenant’s office with the Lieutenant standing out there among them.

“I didn’t realize Ludwig’s family was here,” He said, “I didn’t even see his nametag until I started talking to him and by then we were already discussing details of the case.”

“I’ve spent my life keeping that idiot in line,” Roderich said, “You won’t have to worry about him getting out of line, he’s one of the most dedicated cops I’ve ever seen. And if he does start to stray, I’d be happy to kick him back into focus.”

Detective Wang smirked, “That’s good to know.”

By this time Vash and Gilbert had stood up and were slowly putting what they could of the office back together. There was nothing to be done for the smashed vase so it and the flowers it had held ended up in the trash bin. The knick knacks had mostly been clutter Roderich hadn’t known what to do with anyway, and to watch the damaged beyond repair ornaments and statuettes disappear the same way as the vase brought a bit of relief to Roderich. The books, the unbroken ornaments, and anything else that only needed straightening was soon done to the best of his cousin’s ability (he could fix everything later), and they emerged spent but somewhat relaxed.

Detective Wang offered the both of them a patient smile and turned to head back to the conference room, Vash quick to follow.

Gilbert had been about to follow suit when he’d been stopped by Roderich grabbing his wrist. Confused, the cop turned to see his cousin looking a bit embarrassed but then rushing to embrace him as tightly as he could. The rest of the bullpen stared openly, and Gilbert stood rigid with surprise. Roderich tried to convey all his hurt and sympathy into the embrace, pressing their chests closer to somehow broadcast his own inner turmoil to the other. Slowly, he felt Gilbert’s hands drag up his back to return the hug and the two spent a few quiet seconds only knowing each other before they released and turned to go. Gilbert, cheeky even when at rock bottom, turned and bowed to his comrades before disappearing through the door and Roderich could only muster an amused eye roll at his antics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for not updating... I'm trying to get through replies as quick as I can now that I've finally got my butt back in gear (so if I reply to something that got commented months ago sorry!)


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